J    .^  -v  v..    ^•''• 


(■/■ 


m  Ethel  Hale  Freeman 

I    A  DRAMATIZATION  OF 

loNSIEUR  BeAUCAIRE 


A    COMEDY    IN    THREE    ACTS 


Walter    H.    Baker   6   Co..   Boston 


><. 


THE  AMAZONS    ^'^^^^  *"  Three  Acts.    Seven  males,  five  females. 
Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  not  difficult.    Plays 
a  full  eveniug. 

TIE  mm  KBisiHt  s"!." r,^s,srx: 

Bcenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

DANDY  D'CR    ^s^''*'®  *^  Three  Acts.    Se^on  males,  four  females. 
'  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  two  interiors.    Plays 

two  hours  and  a  half. 

THP  IrAT  I  APT)  AITFT  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Four  males,  ten 
lUC  UAl  I.UaU  yUEA  j^^iales.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery, 
two  interiors  and  an  exterior.    Pliij  s  a  full  evening. 

HIS  RO'^^SE  IN  ORDEB  comedy  lu  Four  Acts.  Nino  males,  four 
11  J  llVi^tJL)  il  VIWm*  females.  Costumes,  modem ;  scenery, 
three  Interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

TRP  HflRRT  HAKSE  comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Ten  males,  five 
IIII4  IIVUU      II         U    fgn^iea_  Costumes,  modern;  scenery  easy. 

Plays  two  hoars  and  a  half. 

I  VIS    I^i'^^n^  Ia  Five  Acts.    Seven  males,  seven  females.    Costumes, 
modem  j  scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

I  ADY  ROIINTIFI'L  ^^^  ***  Tout  Acts.  Eight  males,  seven  fe- 
l^Alri  in/Ull  \)U  mnieg  Costumes,  modem ;  scenery,  four  in- 
teriors, not  easy.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

LFTTY  ^'*°"*  *°  "PoviX  Acts  and  an  Epilogue.  Ten  males,  five  fe- 
**^**  males.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery  complicated.  Plays  a 
full  evening 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

WeiXttx  1^»  'Baaet  a  Company 

No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


A  Dramatization  of 
MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/dramatizationofmOOfreeiala 


A  Dramatization  of 

Monsieur  Beaucaire 


By 

ETHEL  HALE  FREEMAN 

Made  from  Booth  Tarkingtoti's  popular  novel  taith  the  con- 
sent of  that  author t  his  publishers  and  his  collabora- 
tors  in  the  play  of  the  same  title  popularized  iy  thelatt 
Richard  Mansfield. 


READ  CAREFULLY 

This  dramatization  is  intended  for  the  use  of  amateur  playen 
acting  in  schools,  colleges  or  tmder  other  strictly  private  conditions 
of  performance,  and  must  not  be  presented  for  profit  or  before  a 
paying  audience  save  for  charitable  purposes.  Presentations  given 
for  paid  admissions  or  for  the  pecuniary  benefit  of  any  club  or  in- 
dividual are  strictly  forbidden,  all  acting  rights  being  strictly  r^ 
served  under  the  author's  copyright.  Permission  may  be  secured 
for  performance  of  this  play  by  amateurs  subject  to  the  above  in- 
variable conditions  by  payment  to  the  author  of  a  royalty  of  ten 
dollars  (^lo. CO)  for  each  performance.  Such  payments  should  be 
made  and  all  correspondence  on  this  subject  addressed  to  Etmbl 
Halb  Frxxman,  8  West  St.,  Northampton,  Mass. 


BOSTON 

WALTER  H.  BAKER  &  CO. 
1916 


A  Dramatization  of 
MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 


CHARACTERS 


Francois. 

Victor. 

Servant  to  Beau  Nash. 

Lady  Mary  Carlysle. 

Lady  Malbourne. 

Lady  Clarise. 

Lady  Rellerton. 

Lady  Baring-Gould. 

ESTELLE. 

Marie. 


M.  Beaucaire. 
Duke  of  Winterset. 
Mr.  Molyneux. 
Harry  Rackell. 
Capt.  Badger. 
Beau  Nash. 
Lord  Townbrake. 
Mr.  Bantison. 
Sir  Hugh  Guilford. 
Henri  de  Beaujolais. 
Marquis  de  Mirepoix. 
Servants  to  Beaucaire,  Marquis,  Winterset  and  Lady 
Malbourne. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act    L — Scene  i.     A  room  in  Beaucaire's  lodging. 

Scene  2.     Lady  Malbourne's  house. 
Act  IL — Scene  i.     A  park.     Late  in  the  morning. 

Scene  2.     The  same.     Late  afternoon. 

Scene  3.     The  same.     Evening. 
Act  IIL — The  assembly  room.     One  week  later. 


Copyright,  1916,  by  Ethel  Hale  Freeman 
As  author  and  proprietor 


All  rights  reserved 


Dramatized  for 
*^CAP  AND  BELLS'' 

Smith  College 


2114989 


DIRECTIONS  FOR  SCENERY 

This  play  may  be  staged  by  a  simple  composition  of 
columns  and  curtains  in  Acts  I  and  III,  and  by  four  ex- 
terior flats  in  Act  II. 


REQUISITES  FOR  SETTING 

Six  marble  pillars  ;  four  curtains,  preferably  of  an 
6cru  color  ;  one  pair  of  curtains,  rose-color  with  border 
of  pink  roses  ;  a  pair  of  wide  steps,  and  platform  ;  ex- 
terior back  drop  and  four  wood  wings. 


Act  I. — Scene  i.    Set  the  stage  far  down  to  the  front. 
using  rose  curtains  in  the  centre. 

7 


DIRECTIONS  FOR  SCENERY 


Act  I. — Scene  2.  Move  central  pillars  to  either  side  of 
steps  at  centre  of  upper  stage.  Remove  rose  curtains, 
disclosing  exterior  back-drop. 


Act  II.— Set  a  simple  exterior,  using  back-drop  and 
four  wood  wings. 


DIRECTIONS  FOR  SCENERY 


Act  III. — Right  and  Centre  stage,  same  as  Act  I, 
Scene  2.  On  L£ft,  enclose  a  small  room,  rose  curtains  at 
the  front,  plain  wall  at  rear.  A  border  of  pink  roses  may 
effectively  be  used  to  dress  this  scene. 


STAGE  PROPERTIES 

Three  chairs,  style  of  Louis  XIV ;  card-table,  same 
period  ;  marble  bench  ;  palms  and  ferns. 


10  COSTUMES 


COSTUMES 

Beaucaire.     First.     Dark  green   or  black  cloth  coat, 

lace    cuffs,   white  stock ;    black   satin  breeches, 

pumps ;  black  wig. 
Second.     White   satin   suit,  delicate  design  of  pink 

roses  on  the  coat ;  white  plumed  hat ;  dress  sword. 
Henri  and  Mirepoix.     Light  velvet  or  satin  suit ;  dress 

sword. 
Winterset.     Black  velvet ;  large  black  hat. 
Other    Gentlemen.     Velvet    or     satin    coat,     satin 

breeches,  lace  cuffs,  white  stock  ;  pumps. 
Capt.   Badger.     English   uniform  of  early  eighteenth 

century. 
WiNTON  and  Servant  to  Beau  Nash.    Cloth  suit,  wide 

cuffs,  stock  ;  white  stockings. 
Servants  to  Beaucaire.     Black  cloth  suit,  wide  cuffs, 

black  stock,  white  stockings. 
Lady  Mary.     Pale  blue  satin,  empire  style. 
Other  Ladies.     Empire  dress,  varying  in  light  colors  ; 

fan,  parasol,  large  hat. 
Marie.    Short  black  dress  ;  cuffs,  kerchief,  cap,  small 

lace  apron. 

PROPERTIES 

Act   \.  Scene  i. — Cloak  and  purse  for  Frangois ;  cards 

and  dice  on  table. 
Scene  3. — Red  or  pink  roses  for  Lady  Mary  ; 

dress  sword   for   Beaucaire ;   fan  for 

Lady  Clarise  ;  order  of  dance  for  Lady 

Malbourne. 
Act  IL  Scene  i. — Parasol  for  Lady  Malbourne. 

Scene  2. — Swords  for  Capt.  Badger,  Beaucaire, 

Molyneux  and  Townbrake  ;  bandage 

for  Townbrake. 


PROPERTIES  1 1 

Scene  J. — Six  black  masks  for  Winterset  and 
other  men  ;  six  long  cloaks  ;  twelve 
swords  for  all  men  except  Beaucaire  ; 
dress  sword  for  Beaucaire  ;  rope  for 
gentleman  ;  long  whip  for  Winterset. 
Act  IIL^Red  rose  for  Lady  Clarise  ;  fan  for  Lady 
Clarise  ;  orders  for  Beaucaire  ;  cards 
and  dice  on  table  ;  crutch  and  bandage 
for  Sir  Hugh. 


PLEASE  NOTICE 

The  acting  rights  in  this  play  are  strictly  reserved  by  the 
author  to  whom  applications  for  its  use  should  be  addressed. 
Amateurs  may  obtain  permission  to  produce  it  privately 
under  the  conditions  specified  on  the  title  page,  on  pay- 
ment of  a  fee  of  ^lo.oo  for  each  performance,  always  in 
advance.  Correspondence  on  this  subject  should  be  ad- 
dressed and  all  such  payments  made  to  Ethel  Hale 
Freeman,  8  West  St.,  Northampton,  Mass.,  though  pay- 
ment of  royalty  may  be  made,  as  a  matter  of  convenience, 
through  the  publishers. 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalties  provided  by  law  for 
any  infringements  of  her  rights,  as  follows  : 

"Sbc.  4966  : — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  representing  anv 
dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which  copyright  has  been  obtainea, 
without  the  consent  of  the  proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composi- 
tion, or  his  heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  therefor,  such 
damages  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less  than  one  hundred 
dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for  every  subsequent  performance,  as 
to  the  court  shall  appear  to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  rep- 
resentation  be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty 
of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  be  imprisoned  for  a  period  not 
exceeding  one  year." — U.  S.  Revised  Statutes,  TitU  60,  Chap.  3. 


A  Dramatization  of 

Monsieur  Beaucaire 


ACT  I 

SCENE  1. — A  room  m  M.  Beauoaiee's  lodg- 
ings.^   A  loud  knock  is  heard,  upper  center, 

Sekvant. 
[Outside.]    I  will  see  him,  fellow,  and  there's 
an  end ! 

FKANgois. 
[At     door.]      No, — no,     Monsieur,     he    is 
not    .    .    . 

[Servant  to  Beau  Nash  appears  v.  o. 

Servant. 
Ton  mean  to  tell  me  that  he  is  not  at  home  ? 

Francois. 
I  do,  oui,  he  is  not  at  home. 

^  See  directions  for  soeneiy. 
13 


14  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Sebvant. 
Bah !    I  will  see  for  myself  I 

FKANgOIS. 

Pardon.    You  will  ree-main  outside,  if  you 
please ! 

Servant. 
By  the  furies,  I  will  not  stay  outside  I 

FEANgOIS. 

Pardon    .    .    . 

Servant. 

\Ince7ised^    Deuce  take  your  pardons !  Make 
way,  sir.    Where's  the  barber,  I  say  ? 

[Enter  from  r.   M.   Beaucaire  wUh 
molyneux. 

Francois. 
Sir,  you  call  our  master  a  "  barber  "  one  more 
<time,  an'  we  kill  you  ! 

Servant. 
-Ho,  ho !    A  pretty  threat !    He  didn't  deny 
it,  did  he  ?    Make  way ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
\To  MoLYNEUX.]     You    mus'  then    leave 
me  ?    .     .     .    A  chair  for  M.  Molyneux. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  15 

Servant. 
Ah !  there  he  is  !    Mr.  Victor,  a  message  to 
you  from  Mr.  Nash. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah!  more  instructions  from  Meestaire  Nash  ? 
One  was  not  enough  he  think'.  You  English 
mus'  al-ways  do  a  thing  twice — eh  ?  [M.  Beau- 
caire takes  the  letter  and  reads  it.']  Ah,  you 
are  yet  there,  little  frien'  ? 

Servant. 
There's  a  reply,  isn't  there,  Mr.  Barber  ? 

FRAN901S. 
^T%reateninff.]    Hein ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
My  man  shall  bring  it  to  him.  You  may  go. 
[£xtt  Servant.  To  Molyneux.]  Your  Mees- 
taire Nash,  he  mak'  me  laugh,  Monsieur.  He 
tell  me,  here,  very  cross,  I  mus'  not  come  again 
to  the  Pump-Room. 

Molyneux. 
Ah! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Was  not  once — an'  before  all  those  people, 
enough  ? 


l6  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

MOLYNEUX. 

Oh,  Monsieur !  I  cannot  think  of  you  as  a 
barber,  and  to  our  Nash,  who  is  as  sensitive  as 
a  potted  plant,  the  shock  has  been,  most  un- 
settling. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 

{Thoughtfully 7\    Ah — yes,  yesi 

MOLYNEUX. 

And  to  all  of  us,  Monsieur,  I  own  it.  But, 
barber  or  no  barber,  I  like  to  play  with  you, 
for  you,  sir,  are  as  straight  as  an  Englishman. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Monsieur,  Monsieur !     Your  manner,  is  it  not 
as  kin'  as  a  Frenchman  ?    Your  great-gran'fa- 
ther  was  French,  not  so  ? 

FEAN-pois.  ^^ 

[In  doorway.'}  M.  le  Duo  de  Winterset  est 
"dcssul^  Monseigneur.     [Molyneux  crosses  to  l. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Ah — he  haf  come  again.     May  I  ask — do 
you  never  play  with  that  gentleman,  sir,  his 
Grace  of  Winterset  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

Ah,  I  am  not  rich  enough,     [l.  c] 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  1/ 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[c]    Eh,  but  he  is,  of  course,  hones'  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

{Franldy^  I  like  better  to  play  with  you, 
my  friend.  {Enter  Yictor,  u.  o. 

M.  le  Due  de  Winterset Cnaise  pou^ 

M.  Molyneux. 

[FRANpois  comes  to  Molyneux  and 
helps  him  on  with  his  cape.  Enter 
Duke  of  Winterset. 

Molyneux. 
Good-evening,  Your  Grace. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
I  am  honor',  M.  le  Due. 

"Winterset.  *    \y^ 

Good-evening,  Beaucaire.    You  are  not  leav-  •.; 
ing,  Molyneux? 

Molyneux. 

Your  pardon — I  am  waiting  on  my  young 
cousin,  the  Lady  Clarise,  whom  I  am  to  escort 
to-night  to  Lady  Malbourne's  ball. 


l8  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WiNTERSET. 

Oh,  yes.  Make  up  a  table  there,  Molyneux ; 
young  Badger  and  Townbrake  will  play.  Pity 
you  are  not  a  gentleman,  Beaucaire.  I  warrant 
you  could  dance. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
At  leas'  I  could  gaze,  Monsieur,  at  your  Eng- 
lish fair. 

[WiNTERSET  gvoes  his  cloak  to  Victor, 
U.  R.,  a/nd  busies  himself  with  cards j 
soon  sitting  at  table  D.  R.  c. 

Molyneux. 
[l.  c]    You  admire  our  ladies  ?    "Who  does 
not  ?    They  are — after  all — the  crown  of  flowers 
we  work  for,  fight  for,  and — behave  well  for. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah  !    You  have  also,  then,  the  romance  ?    I 
knew  you  mus'  have  it — the — what  shall  I  call  ? 
the  vibration  un'erneath  your  so  calm  waist- 
coat. 

Molyneux. 
You  are  a  surprising  fellow,  Beaucaire.  But 
I  must  undeceive  you.  We  English  do  not  care 
two-pence  for  what  you  call  "  romance."  "We 
are  so  obstinately  logical,  you  know.  And 
there  is  apt  to  be  danger  in  romance. 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  1 9 

M.  Beaucaibe. 

l^Pityingly.']    But    your    ladies — how    they 
mus'  miss  it ! 

MOLYNEUX. 

There  you  mistake,   my  young  friend 


Romance  is  too  prone  to  deceive.  If  you  play 
with  it  upon  an  Englishman,  he  may  take  you 
too  seriously — forgive  you — yes, — perhaps — but 
he  will  never  forget.  If  you  play  with  it  upon 
the  heart  of  an  English  lady,  she  will  never  for- 
get or  forgive. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
I  thank  you  for  my  lesson.  Monsieur. 

MOLYNEUX. 

Good-evening. 

PVIOLYNEUX  goes  out  u.  Q.^  followed  hy 

FRANgOIS  cmd  ViCTOE. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

[Going  u.  c]  Adieu,  Monsieur.  [Pausing 
u.  L.  c]  "  She  will  Tiever  forget  or  forgive." 
Ah,  yes,  it  is  true  of  mos^  of  your  English  fair, 
but  one,  ah,  there  is  at  leas'  one  whose  kin'  heart 
will  forgive  a  little  romance — we  shall  see, 
M.  Molyneux,  that  there  is  one  / 


20  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

"WiNTERSET. 

"Well,  Beaucaire  ? 

[M.  Beaucaire  turns  quicTdy  vn  apol- 
ogy' 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Your  servant,  M.  le  Due. 

\He  sits  opposite  Winterset.  As  they 
begin  to  play,  Francois  enters.  He 
Jias  a  military  cape  over  his  arm.  He 
pauses  at  M.  Beau  c aire's  left  and 
hows  hefore  speaking. 

FRANgOIS.,,^/      ^  yM^. 

PardQn«MgaseigBears,  le  mantel  appartient 
a  I'unoesgSrttteshommes— je  ne  sais  a  qui      x   rf-  ^ 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah,  one  of  the  gentlemen  forget  his  mantle ; 
could  you  tell  whom  it  belong,  my  frien'  ? 

WiNTERSET. 

Let  me  see — it  looks  like  Badger's  ;  yes,  'tis 
one  of  Captain  Badger's. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
rran9ois,  ree-turn  it  to  the  Captain  who  was 
here  this  af'-noon. 

FRANpois. 
Oui,  Monseigneur [Exit,  u.  o. 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  21 

M.  Beaucaire. 
An'  now,  my  frien',  we  shall  not  be  interrup* 
again.  {They  play. 

WiNTERSET. 

Stay !     That  is  mine,  I  think. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[Rising.']    Is  not  the  room  too  warm,  Mon- 
sieur ? 

[As  he  crosses  L.,  Fran§ois  annoimcea. 

M.  le  Capitane  est  renVeiTu;  luTineme.'  i 

Capt.  Badger. 
Good-evening,  Winterset — Beaucaire,  I  came 
to  find  my  cloak  and  met  your  servant  just 
outside,  bringing  it  to  me. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[l.]    Frangois  has  restored  to  you  your  cape  ? 

Capt.  Badger. 
The  cape  was  nothing.  But,  deuce  take  it, 
when  a  sharp  little  fellow  sees  a  handful  of 
gold  lying  loose  in  one's  pocket,  and  leaves  it 
there — gad !  but  there's  a  lad  worth  keeping 
your  eye  on ! 


22  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
I  hope  my  man  knew  his  duty,  sir. 

Capt.  Badger. 
But  the  pay  for  half  my  company  was  in  this 
pocket,  gentlemen ! 

WiNTERSET. 

Ah,   most    servants    might    think    it    their 
"duty"  to  take  it! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
My  servants  are  all  hones',  Monsieur. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Then  you  are  more  fortunate  than  the  king  I 
Here,  fellow.     This  is  to  encourage  your  hon- 
esty.    \Gim7ig  money  to  Francois.]    May  it 
never  lessen. 

FRANgois. 
Merci,  merci,  Monsieur. 

Capt.  Badger. 
A  bright  lad,  eh,  Beaucaire  ?    Good  face ; 
.     .     .     I    never   forget  a  face.     What's    his 
name? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Franpois. 

Capt.  Badger. 
"When  he's  for  sale,  let  me  know. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  2$ 

M.  Beaucaire. 
I  cannot  let  you  have  Fran9ois,  Monsieur. 

Capt.  Badger. 
You're    coming,   of    course,   to    Lady  Mal- 
bourne's,  Duke? 

Winters  ET. 
Yes,  I  promised  Nash  I'd  call  in  about  nine. 
Lady  Mary  Carlysle  will  attend. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Oh  1  [Scarcely  audible. 

Capt.  Badger. 

Aha,  then  it  will  be  a  ball  indeed 'Til 

then,  sir.  [Slight  how.]  Good-night,  Beaucaire ; 
as  for  you,  boy,  look  to  Badger  if  you  want  to 
change  masters — eh,  Beaucaire  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
You    cannot    have    him,   Monsieur.     Fran- 

gois 

[Ife  whispers  to  FRANpois.  Capt. 
Badger  looks  hard  at  Francois  and 
exit.  M.  Beaucaire  and  Win- 
terset  now  settle  down  to  play  in 
earnest.  Francois  exit  d.  R. ;  he 
soon  reappears  u.  c.  amd  the  door 
D.  R.  opens  noiselessly  disclosing  Jean 
a/nd  the  other  servants  just  outside. 


24  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Pardon.    Was  not  that  a  mistake  ? 

WiNTERSET. 

SjOrossly?^     Eh  ?    Deal  again  if  you  like. 

\A  pause.  At  a  signal  from  FRAis^poiS 
all  six  of  M.  Beaucaire's  servants 
steal  into  the  room.  Suddenly  M. 
Beaucaiee  leans  forward  aiid  plucks 
a  card  from  Winteeset's  sleeve. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Merci,  M.  le  Due ! 

Winteeset. 

It  means  the  dirty  work  of  silencing  you 
with  my  bare  hands ! 

[^Re  starts  to  spring  towa/rd  M.  Beau- 
caiee. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 

\^Quichly.'\  Do  not  move  !  Observe  behind 
you.  Is  it  not  a  compliment  to  Monsieur  that 
I  procure  six  large  men  to  subdue  him  ?  They 
are  quite  devot'  to  me,  and  Monsieur  is  alone. 

WiNTEESET. 

It's  murder,  is  it,  you  carrion  ? 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  2$ 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
What  words !     No,  no,  no  !  no  killing.     A 
such  word    to    a    such    host !      No,   no,   not 
mur-r-der ;  only  disgrace !  [Laughs. 

WiNTERSET. 

You  little  devilish  scullion  ! 

[At  these  words  M.  Beaucaire's  7nen 
lay  hands  on  "Winterset. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[liaises  his  hand  and  his  men  release  WiN- 
TERSET.]     Tut,  tut !     But  I  forget.     Monsieur 
has  pursue'  his  studies  of  deportment  amongs' 
his  fellow  countrymen. 

WiNTERSET. 

Do  you  dream  that  a  soul  in  Bath  will  take 
your  word  that  I — that  I 

M.  Beaucaire. 
That  M.  le  Due  de  Winterset  had  a  card  up 
his  sleeve  ? 

Winterset. 
[Low  tone,  growling  the  words  out  slowly. 1 
You  pitiful  stable-boy,  born  in  a  stable 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Is  it  not  an  honor  to  be  born  where  Monsieur 
must  have  been  bred  ? 


26  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WiNTERSET. 

You  scurvy  foot- boy,  you  barber,  you  cut- 
throat groom. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Overwhelm' !  M.  le  Due  appoint  me  to  all 
the  office  of  his  househol'. 

WiNTERSET. 

Fool !  There  are  not  five  people  of  quality 
in  Bath  will  speak  to  you. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

No,  Monsieur,  not  on  the  parade ;  but  how 
many  may  come  to  play  me  here  ?  Because  I 
will  play  always,  night  and  day,  for  what  one 
■will,  for  any  long,  and  always  fair,  Monsieur, 
always  fair — with  the  cards,  with-th«-diee,  or 
with  the  small  sword,  but  always  fair.  Monsieur, 
al-ways  fair ! 

WiNTERSET. 

You  outrageous  varlet !  Every  one  knows 
you  came  to  England  as  the  French  Ambassa- 
dor's barber.  What  man  of  fashion  will  listen 
to  you  ?    Who  will  believe  you  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
All  people,  Monsieur. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  2/ 

WiNTEESET, 

Bah' 

M.  Beauoaiee. 

Will  Monsieur  not  reseat  himself  ?  So. 
Jean,  Victor,  and  you  others  retire ;  go  into  the 
halhvay.  {All  exeunt  except  Fean§ois.]  At- 
tend at  the  entrance,  Franyois.  Go ;  now  we 
shall  talk.  Monsieur,  I  wish  you  to  think  very 
cool.  Then  listen  :  I  will  be  briefly.  It  is  that 
I  am  well  known  to  be  all,  entire  hones' — 
every  one  say  that.  And— is  there  never  a 
whisper  come  to  Monsieur  le  Due  that  not  all 
people  believe  him  to  play  al-ways  hones'  ? 
Ha,  ha !     Did  it  almos'  be  said  to  him  las' 

year 

Winteeset. 

You  dirty  scandal-monger ! 

M.  Beaucaiee. 

Monsieur,  Monsieur !  True  I  am  notreco'nize 
on  the  parade ;  that  my  frien's  who  come  here 
do  not  present  me  to  their  ladies ;  that 
Meestaire  Nash  has  reboff'  me  in  the  pump- 
room  ;  still — do  not  all  say  I  am  hones'  and  will 
I  not  be  belief  even  I,  when  I  lif  up  my  voice 
and  charge  you  aloud  with  what  is  already 
w'isper  ? 

Winteeset. 

How  much  do  you  want  ? 


28  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaire. 

{Laughing^     I  catch  you  cheatin'  an'  you 

offer  me  money — money  !     Pouff !     No,  no,  no, 

it  is  not  that !     It  is  that  M.  le  Due,  impoverish', 

somewhat  in  a  bad  odor  as  he  is,  yet  command 

the  entree — anywhere — onless  I Ha,  ha  I 

Eh,  Monsieur  ? 

WiNTERSET. 

Ha !    You  dare  think  to  force  Tne 

M,  Beaucaire. 
Monsieur  have  talk  with  his  friends  of  Lady 

Malbourne's  ball Is  it  kin'.  Monsieur,  to 

flaunt  your  privilege  before  a  poor  gam'ler  ? 
No,  Monsieur  need  have  more  pity — I  mus'  cul- 
tivate it  for  him. 

WiNTERSET. 

Pity !     Bah  ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
So — Monsieur  begin  by  takin'  me  to  Lady 
Malbourne'  baU,  to-night 

WiNTERSET. 

Curse  your  impudence ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Sit  quiet.    You  see,  that's  all ;  we  goin'  to- 
gether. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  29 

WlNTERSET. 

No! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Certain.     I  make  all  my  little  plan — 'tis  all 
arrange. 

WlNTERSET. 

Nol 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Yes.  You  goin'  take  me  to-night — and 
after — then  I  have  the  entree.  Is  it  much  I 
ask?  That  one  little  favor,  and  I  never 
w'isper,  never  breathe  that — it  is  to  say  I  keep 
always  forever  silent  of  Monsieur's — misfortune. 

WiNTERSET. 

You  have  the  entree  !  Go  to  a  lackey's  rout 
and  dance  with  the  kitchen  maids.  If  I  would 
I  could  not  present  you  to  Bath  society.  You 
would  be  thrust  from  Lady  Malbourne's  door 
five  minutes  after  you  entered  it. 

M.  Beatjoairb. 

Oh,  no,  no,  no  ! 

WlNTERSET. 

Half  the  gentlemen  of  Bath  have  been  here 
to  play.  They  would  know  you,  wouldn't 
they,  fool  ? 


JO  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaire. 
No — ^you  mistake,  they  will  Tiot  know  me. 
Beside — ^you  goin'  presen'  me  to  the  ladies,  at 
las' !    To  Lady  Mary  Carlysle. 

WiNTEESET. 

Ha,  indeed !  Lady  Mary  Carlysle,  of  all 
women  alive,  would  be  the  first  to  prefer  the 
devil  to  a  man  of  no  birth,  barber. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Oh — is  that  why  she  have  tolerate  youf 
Ha,  ha ! 

WiNTERSET. 

Also — dolt — she  would  know  you,  if  you 
escaped  the  others.  She  stood  within  a  yard  of 
you  when  Nash  expelled  you  from  the  pump- 
room. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
{ArvgrUy^     You  think  I  did  not  see  ? 

WiNTERSET. 

Do  you  think  because  I  introduce  you,  Bath 
will  receive  a  barber  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
{Proudly!]    I  beg  to  call  Monsieur's  atten- 
tion I  have  renounce'  that  professi'n. 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  31 

WiNTEESET. 

Fool! 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
I  am  now  a  man  of  honour  ! 

WiNTEESET. 

Faugh  I 

M.  Beaucaiee. 

Shall  you  be  shame'  for  your  guest's  manner  ? 
if  o,  no  !  My  appearance,  is  it  of  the  people  ? 
Clearly,  no.     Do  I  not  compare  in  taste  of  ap- 

farail  with  your  young  Englishmen  ?  Ha,  ha ! 
t  is  to  be  hope'.  Monsieur,  it  is  to  be  hope'  I 
You  shall  have  nothin'  to  worry  you — nothin' 
in  the  worl' — I  am  goin'  assassinate  my  poor 
muttachio — likewise  remove  this  horrible,  dark 
petru^e,  and  these  remarkable  patches — and 

emerge^  in  my  own  hair Behol' !     When 

it  is  dress',  I  am  transform', 

[Sweeping  of  the  Hack  wig  and  r&oealvng 
his  own  hright  hair. 

WiNTEESET. 

Ho,  ho !  Think  you  one  cannot  tell  a  gentle- 
man from  a  stable-boy  ?  Perhaps  you  think 
you  were  bom  a  gentleman  ? 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
{Slowly ?[    No — I  was  not  born  a  gentleman, 
no — I  was  not  born  a  gentleman,  I  was  born  a 


32  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

lebi!  Ah,  you  need  have  nottin'  to  worry 
you,  Monsieur,  nottin'  in  the  worl'.  No  one 
shall  reco'nize  M.  Beaucaire  or  "  Victor." 

"WiNTERSET. 

Curse  you — do  you  think  I  am  going  to  be 
saddled  with  you  wherever  I  go  ? 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
No,  no.  Monsieur,  all  I  requi' — all  I  beg — is 
this  one  evenin' — after,  I  shall  not  need  Mon- 
sieur. 

WiNTEESET. 

Take  heed  to  yourself — after ! 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Conquered,  conquered  for  to-night !  Ah,  I 
shall  meet  some  strange  frien's  of  yours  after 
to-night,  not  so  ?  I  mus'  try  not  to  be  too 
much  frighten'.  \^Front.'\  "  Victor,"  the  artis', 
is  condemn'  to  death  !  His  throat  shall  be  cut 
with  his  own  razor.  "  M.  Beaucaire  "  [throw- 
ing dice  in  his  hlaeh  wig  and  hurling  it  out 
D.  E.] — "  M.  Beaucaire  "  shall  be  choke'  with 
his  own  dice-box.  Who  is  this  Phoenix  to  re- 
main ?  Choose  for  me.  Monsieur,  choose  for 
me.  Shall  it  be  corate,  vicomte,  marquis,  chev- 
alier or  what  ?  Ah,  no,  no,  no  !  Out  of  com- 
pliment to  Monsieur,  should  I  desire  to  be  any- 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  33 

thing  that  he  is  not  ?  Ah,  no,  no,  no  I  I  shall 
be  M.  le  Duo,  M.  le  Due  de — Chateaurien.  Ha, 
ha  I    You  see  ?    You  are  my  confrere  ! 

WiNTERSET. 

Ah,  indeed ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
But  how  I  forget  my  age.     I  am  twenty- 
three.     I  rejoice  too  much  to  be  of  the  quality. 
Your  pardon.  Monsieur. 

WiNTERSET. 

All  England  does  not  possess  such  a  rascal  of 
impertinence. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Your  England — ah,  it  is  too  much  for  me — 
I  am  goin'  tell  you  a  secret.  The  ladies  of 
your  country,  they  are  very  different  than  ours. 
One  may  adore  the  demoiselle — one  must  wor- 
ship the  lady  of  England,  Ours  are  flowers, 
yours  are  stars.  Ah,  yes,  and  there  is  one 
among  these  stars,  ah,  yes,  there  is  one,  the 
poor  Frenchman  have  observe  from  his  humble 
distance.  Even  there  he  can  bask  in  the  glow- 
ing. Ah,  what  radiance !  Those  people  up 
there  over  the  sky,  they  wish  to  show  they 
wish  the  poor  earth  to  be  happy — they  smile 
and  they  make  this  lady  ! 


34  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WiNTEESET. 

Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

M.  Beaucaiee. 

Ah,  you  laugh  1  What  do  you  know,  Mon- 
sieur, what  do  you  know  ?  The  heart  of  a  lady 
is  a  blank  to  you — you  have  nothing  of  the 
fibre — oh,  yes,  you  can  laugh — the  war  is  open', 
an'  by  me  I  There  is  one  great  step  taken. 
Until  to-night,  there  was  nothing  for  you  to 
ruin,  to-morrow  you  have  got  a  noble  of  France, 
your  own  protege,  to  besiege  and  sack.  It  shall 
be  a  game  of  romance.  Monsieur — a  game  of 
superb  romance ! 

WiNTEESET. 

Stop,  do  you  forget  Mr.  Molyneux — what  he 
said  of  an  English  lady  ? 

M.  Beaucaiee. 

I  do  not  forget — I  defy  his  words.  There  is 
one  heart  that  can  beat  with  romance — as  there 
is  one  name — in  England — more  beautiful  than 
all  the  res',  and  that  is  "  Mary."  Ah — ^jus'  to 
watch  her  an'  to  wonder !  It  is  strange,  but  I 
have  almos'  cry  out  in  rapture  at  a  look  I  have 
see'  her  another  man — a  look  for  another ! 
Ah,  yes — an'  to  many  others — an'  to  you  one 
day  a  rose,  Monsieur,  while  I — I  could  not  be 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  35 

SO  bless'  as  be  the  groun'  beneath  her  little 
shoe  !  But  to-night^  Monsieur,  ha,  ha ! — to- 
night [elaborate  hows']  two  princes,  you  an'  me, 
M.  le  Due  de  Winterset  and  M.  le  Due  de 
Chateaurien — an'  we  are  goin'  arm  in  arm  to 
that  ball,  an'  /  am  goin'  have  one  of  those 
looks,  I !  And  a  rose  !  I !  It  is  time  !  But 
ten  minutes,  Monsieur,  while  I  go  in  the  nex' 
room  an'  assassinate  my  mustachio — an'  inves' 
myself  in  white  satin.  Ha,  ha !  I  shall  be 
very  gra/n\  Monsieur,  I  shall  be  very  gran'  I 
Fran9ois,  sen'  Louis  to  me ;  Victor,  two  chairs 
for  Monsieur  le  Due  an'  me  ;  we  are  goin'  out 
into  the  worl'  to-night ! 

[Loud  and  joyous  as  he  runs  off  L. 


OUBTAIN 


SCENE  2. — Lady  Malbourne's  hou^e.  Lady 
Malbourne  stands  D.  R.  c. ;  Estelle  on 
her  R. ;  Winton,  u.  c.  ;  Marie,  d.  r. 

WiNTON. 

[c,  announcing.']     Mr.  Harry  Rackell. 

[Enter  Harry,  huoyantly,  u.  0. 


$6  MONSIEUR  BE  Aire  AIRE 

Lady  Malbourne. 
What,  Harry!    Ah,  we  heard  you  had  re- 
turned from  France.  [d.  r.  o. 

Harry. 
Do  you  not  observe  my  Parisian  pirouette  ? 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Dear  boy !   you  are  quite  dazzling — surely. 
Welcome  once  more  to  Bath. 

Harry. 
Will  you  not  greet  me  as  kindly,  Estelle  ? 

ESTELLE. 

Do  not  come  to  me  for  compliments  until  I 
have  observed  you  quite  thoroughly. 

Harry. 
Oh,  your  pardon.     I  had  forgot  you  had  en- 
tered the  ballroom  of  fashion.     Dear  me — you 
are  quite — quite  a  lady,  I  see. 

Estelle. 
Sir! 

Harry. 
[Sighing.']     Alas!      Will    you    never  again 
race  me  over  the  lawn,  or  play  castle  on  the 
wall  ?    But,  Madam,  you  will,  at  least,  permit 
me  to  paint  you. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  ^ 

Lady  Malbouene. 
Indeed,  yes,  Harry.     You    need  not  pout, 
Estelle,  for  you  know  very  well  that  your  hair 
and  color  will  never  be  better. 

Estelle. 
^^LaughingJ]  Now  is  not  that  a  gloomy  ob' 
servation,  friend  Harry  ?  But  so  it  goes,  does 
it  not  ?  No  sooner  may  one  enter  the  gay  ball- 
room than  lo !  the  music  stops.  Oh,  yes,  paint 
me  at  once,  or  teach  your  art  to  transcend  the 

ugiy.^       ,  ' 

'  Harry. 

Let  us  begin,  then,  at  once  [Harry  and  Es- 
telle move  L.  c.  toget1ier\  before  youth  cools 

down  and  the  ruthless  grip  of  time [Beau 

Nash  a^ypears  u.  C,  where  he  crosses  L.  fe  R. ; 
Harry  sees  him  and  stops  abruptly.']  Bah ! — 
cease  emotions.  I  am  cut  off  by  a  wagging  fop. 
[Estelle  Laughs.  Lady  Malbourne  frowns 
in  disapproval.]  What  a  perfect  doll  is  our 
Beau,  a  powdered,  exquisite  rosette — ^no,  a 
captious  poppy  bobbing  on  its  stem ! 

Estelle. 
Take  care,  Harry ;  mother  will  place  a  keen 
eye  on  your  manners  to-night. 

Harry. 
"Madam  Mother"  shaU  be  rewarded — you 


38  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

shall  see  me  when  the  pompadours  arrive.     No 
one  shall  match  me  for  velvet  and  elegance  I 

ESTELLE. 

Softly,  Harry ;  mother,  you  know,  believes 
you  are  vastly  clever ;  be  careful  not  to  arouse 
her  attention  or  she  will  discover  how  really 
dull  you  can  be. 

[Lady  Malboukne  is  giving  di7'ection8 
to  Maeie. 

Harry. 
Nonsense,  EsteUe.     It  is  quite  impossible  for 
me  to  be  dull.     Besides,  since  leaving  England, 
I  have  looked  on  things  which  would  startle 
music  in  a  stone.     I  have  seen 

Lady  Malbourne. 
What  have  you  seen,  young  Harry  ? 

Harry. 
Such  painting,  Madam ! 

Lady  Malbouene. 
Ah,  indeed ! 

Harry. 
[^Crossing  c,  earnestly.']     Through  the  cotuv 
tesy  of  our  Ambassador,  I  was  permitted  to 
enter    the    Galerie  Royale  where  some  new 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  39 

paintings  were  hung — by  a  great  French  mas- 
ter, though  yet  scarcely  known.  There  was 
one — it  was  of  a  young  prince 

Lady  Malbourne. 
My  dear  Harry,  I  applaud  your  fervor,  but — 

ah,  excuse  me Winton,  set  more  lights  in 

the  second  card-room.  Marie,  the  ladies  who 
arrive  in  chairs  will  be  conducted  to  the  recep- 
tion speciale. 

ESTELLE. 

\Sweetly^  Harry,  you  may  tell  inie  about 
the  portraits.     Come  into  the  conservatory. 

Harry. 
Gladly.  \Th£y  start  out  D.  L. 

Winton. 
Lord  Townbrake ! 

Harry. 

[After  one  glance  over  his  shoulder  at  Town- 
brake.]  Just  in  time.  It's  unpardonable  for 
an  English  lord  to  possess  a  face  like  his ! 

[They  laugh  and  exeunt  D.  L. 

Townbrake. 
Ah,  Lady  Malbourne,  your  servant.     Is  it 

Eossible  I  am  here  before  N^ash  ?    Ah,  I  forgot, 
e  appears  after  we  are  gathered — to  make  a 
sensation,  of  course.     Quite  so. 


40  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WiNTON. 

Mr.  Bantison,  Lady  Clarise. 

[Enter  Bantison  ;  Lady  Clarise  and 
MoLYNEUX  lehind. 

Lady  Malbourne. 

[With  evident  pleasure  hut  not  losing  her 
dignity.']  My  dear  child,  delighted.  And  is 
not  Mr.  Molyneux  to  come,  also  ? 

Molyneux. 

But  two  steps  behind,  Lady  Malbourne. 
Think  you  it  would  be  prudent  for  me  to  en- 
trust my  young  cousin  to  this  foolish  Bantison  ? 
My  compliments,  Madame. 

Bantison. 
What's  that,  Molyneux  ? 

Lady  Malbourne. 

He  says  you  are  not  a  safe  escort  for  Lady 
Clarise.  "  Fie,  Mr.  Bantison  ! 

Bantison. 

Eh?  Ha, — why  no — ah — of  course — you 
know — I  vow  I  should  run  away  with  her  on 
the  spot ;  ha,  ha  ! 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  4I 

Lady  Clarise. 
How  witty  you  are,  Mr.  Bantison ;  now  who 
but  you  could  do  such  a  thing  as  "  run  away  on 
the  spot "  ? 

Bantison. 
Eh  ? — ah — ah — I  don't  follow — ah. 

WiNTON. 

Beau  Nash. 

{Enter  Beau  Nash,  u.  c.  ;  he  enters 
pompoitsly,  and  at  once  assumes  a 
place  of  importa/ace  E.  0.  Lady 
Malbourne  is  on  his  E.  Town- 
brake  has  moved  D.  E.  Bantison, 
Lady  CLAEi:sE  l.  o.  Molyneux 
u.  L.  c. 

All. 
Ah! 

Beau  Nash. 
My  compliments,  Lady  Malbourne.     Good- 
evening,  all. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
My  dear  Beau,  pray  tell  me,  are  the  colors 
right — and  the  ferns,  do  say  that  the  ferns 

are 

Beau  Nash. 
[  Very  seriously.']     Ah — too  bright  a  green  at 
the  mirror,  and  a  trifle  dark  in  yonder  retreat. 


42  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Otherwise — ah — very   well;    yes,  I  may  pro- 
nounce it  very  well  done. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Oh,  I  am  so  happy  !    And  will  you  not  cor- 
rect the  order  of  the  dance  ? 

\She  hands  him  a  paper. 

Beau  Nash. 
[  With  great  importance.']     Ah,  yes,  certainly 
— at  once.     Hm  !     Harry  Kackell — who  is  he  ? 
[ITe  and  Lady  Malbouene  start  down 
stage. 

Lady  Malboukne. 
A  young  artist,  just  returned  from  Paris. 

Beau  Nash. 

Hm — ^ah 

Lady  Malbourne. 
He  has  been  presented  at  the  Assembly  at 
Lyons. 

Beau  Nash. 
Ah,  that  will  do.     Of  course  one  must  make 
sure  of  these  little  matters. 

Townbeake. 
Eh  ?    Kackell  ?    Is  he  back  ?    Clumsy  young 
cur ;  hope  he's  improved. 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  43 

Lady  CLAEisE. 
Have  you  ever  tried  the  Paris  cure,  Lord 
Townbrake  ? 

TOWNBRAKE. 

Eh  ?    What  ?    What  Paris  cure  ? 

Lady  Clarise. 
Mr,   Rackell's.     Come,    Mr.    Bantison,  you 
may  lead  me  through  the  rooms. 

[Exeunt   Lady   ClarIse  and  Banti- 
son D.  L. 

Molyneux. 
I  do  not  see  your  charming  daughter,  Lady 
Malbourne. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
She  is  relieving  the  room  of  Harry's  crude 
manners — there — beyond. 

Molyneux. 
Ah,  giving  him  a  few  finishing  touches.     I'll 

plead  for  a  lesson,  as  well 

\^Exit^  D.  L. 
Beau  Nash. 
And  who  is  to  lay  claim  to  the  Beauty  of 
Bath  ?    Winterset,  no  doubt  ? 

Lady  Malbourne. 
I  believe  Lady  Mary  is  to  favor  Mr.  Moly- 


44  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

neux  to-night.    \A  trifle  disturbed.']    The  Duke 
is  less  prompt  than  usual. 

WiNTON. 

Sir  Hugh  Guilford,  Captain  Badger,  Lady 
Baring-Gould.  [Enter  the  same  ;  Townbrake 
crosses  to  D.  L.  c]  Lady  Rellerton,  Lady  Mary 
Carlysle. 

\A  silence  J  the  men  watch  eagerly. 
MoLYNEUX  a^ears  at  door,  d.  l., 
bringing  two  other  ladies.  Enter 
Lady  Relleeton  and  Lady  Maey, 
u,  c.  A  silence  /  all  turn  and  bow  pro- 
foundly ^  then  group  nea/rer  Lady 
Mary. 

Beau  Kash. 

\To  Lady  Malbourne.]  I  think  we  may 
allow  the  musicians  to  begin. 

[Lady  Malbourne  signals  to  Win- 
ton,  who  motions  to  musicians,  off 
V.  L.  A  few  notes  sound  from  an  ad- 
jovnvng  room.  Sir  Hugh  OMd  Ban- 
TISON  move  with  ladies  toward  D.  B. 

Capt.  Badger. 

Winterset  is  not  here. 

[Joining  ToWNBRAKE,  D.  L.  MoLT- 
NEUX  also  joins  them,. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  45 

TOWNBRAKE. 

So  much  the  better  for  our  cards. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Oh,  he  will  come. 

MOLYNEUX. 

Tis  said  some  one  is  coming  with  him. 

{Reenter  Harry  with  Estelle,  d.  l. 

WiNTON. 

The  Duke  of  Winterset— the  Due  de  Cha- 
teaurien. 

[Winterset  atid  M.  Beaucaire  wp- 
pear,  u.  o. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Ah,  my  dear  Winterset.    For  the  first  time 
the  violins  begin  before  you  are  come. 

[Lady  Mary  crosses  to  d.  l. 

Winterset. 
Pardon,  Madam,   I   was   waiting  upon  this 
gentleman.    May  I  present  to  you  the  Duke 
of  Chateaurien,  who  is  newly  arrived  in  Bath. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Ah,  sir,  I  must  forgive  the  Duke's  tardiness 
since  you  are  the  excuse.  \Bovymg. 


46  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Madame  is  mos'  kin'.    Will  she  receive  my 
ielicitations  ? 

\Bows  /  music  noio  plays  for  dance. 

J         Beax:j  Nash. 
Charming^  charming',  a  foreign  duke !    I  con- 

fratulate  you,  Lady  Malbourne.  [Aside.']  And 
ow  delicately  his  vest  harmonizes  with  the 
background  !  Quite,  quite  charming !  Pray 
permit  me. 

[Bows  and  offers  his  hand  and  leads  her 
to  the  dance.  M.  Beaucaiee,  who 
has  heen  talking  with  Lady  Baring- 
Gould  and  TowNBRAKE,  now  ap- 
proaches Lady  Mary,  d.  c. 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Madame,  I  have  the  honour  to  be  the  leas' 
worthy  to  offer  you  my  han' ;  will  not  she — 
;the  most  gracious — accept  it  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
It  is  a  pleasure,  M.  de  Chateaurien. 

[He  hows ;  he  leads  Lady  Mary  ;  they 
dance.      Exit    Winterset,    angrily^ 

D.  L. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah,  Mademoiselle,  I  would  have  that  dance 
las'  for — for  al-ways. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  47 

\Iie'enteT  Winterset,  d.  l.,  as  the  dance 
ends.  As  the  dance  breaks  up,  the  gen- 
tlemen, TOWNBRAKE,  BaNTISON,  SiR 

Hugh  and  Molyneux  move  off  u.  l. 
Beau  Nash  escorts  ladies  off  u.  R., 
leaving  upon  stage  Lady  Mary  with 
M.  Beaucaire,  d.  r.  c,  Winterset 
at  R.  of  Lady  Mary.  Capt.  Badger 
a/iid  Lady  ClarIse,  d.  l.  Music 
stops. 

Winterset. 

Lady  Mary  will,  I  trust,  permit  me  to  lead 
her  through  the  halls. 

Lady  Mary. 

I  thank  you,  Duke,  but  as  you  see — I  am  al- 
ready bestowed. 

Winterset. 
Ah,  I  thought  the  Duke  of  Chateaurien  had 
promised  he  would  grace  the  card-room  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Is  it  so  soon  ?  Then  the  card-room  will  ap- 
plaud that  I  relinquish  not  my  pos'  as  a  lady^s 
escort. 

[JBows ;  they  go  u.  c.  Winterset  re- 
tui'ns  furiously,  D.  L.,  and  exit. 


48  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Capt.  Badger. 

I  vow,  Lady  Clarise,  if  yonder  fellow  were 
not  so  provokingly  gracious  I  should  be  roused 
to  a  mortal  jeauLousy.  You  have  had  eyes  for 
no  one  since  he  arrived. 

Lady  Clarise. 
Did  you  not  see  his  superb  step  in  the  dance  ? 

Capt.  Badger. 
Well,  that  proves  not  that  he  is  honester  than 
another  man,  I  think. 

Lady  Clarise. 

I  was  not  praising  his  honesty.  Captain 
Badger.    No  one  could  excel  you  in  that. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Clarise ! 

Lady  ClarJse. 

Lady  Clarise,  if  you  please. 

[Molyneux  and  Lady   Malbourne 
appear,  u.  c. 

Capt.  Badger. 

I  vow,  Madam,  if  you  torment  me  longer  I 
will  ride,  this  night,  to  the  most  perilous  point 
on  the  frontier,  and 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  49 

Lady  Clarise. 
— And  shout  gaily,  no  doubt,  to  the  enemy — 
"  Come,  gentlemen,  do  me  the  courtesy  to  shoot 
me ;  I  am  weary  of  pursuing  the  Lady  Clarise." 

Capt.  Badger, 
Never  !    Let  us  go  into  the  gardens. 

\Exeunt  off  D.  L.     MoLYNEUX  conies  D., 
with  Lady  Malbourne. 

MOLYNEUX. 

Can  you  think  so,  Madame  ? 

Lady  Malbourne. 
"Why  not,  sir  ?    Where  there  is  youth,  there 
is— folly. 

MoLYNEUX. 

Your.g  Harry  hath  a  fine  eye  to  my  manner 
of  thinking. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Is  it  not  dull  compared  with  Estelle's  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

Whose  could  be  otherwise  ?    Yet,  believe 
me,  he's  a  good  lad. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
I  did  not  know  you  were  so  profound  a 
searcher  of  character,  Mr.  Molyneux. 


50  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

MOLYNEUX. 

Could  one  favored  by  your  friendship  remain 
dull  in  perception,  Madame  ? 

Lady  Malbouene. 
Your  alertness,  then,  has  found  more  than 
(me  subject  for  study  to-night.     Lady  Mary 

MOLYNEUX. 

{_Quickly:\     Ah? 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Is  there  not  a  new  luster  in  her  eyes  ? 

Molyneux. 
They  are,  indeed,  like  stars— or  is  it  sunlight, 
reflected  from  France,  in  them  ? 

{Reenter  Winterset  with  Lady  Kel- 
LEKTON,  u.  c.  They  come  to  R,  o. 
Reenter  the  others  D.  R.  and  D.  L. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
{After  watching  Winterset.]     The  sunlight 
of  France  is  kindling  a  dangerous  gleam  in  some 
English  eyes.     See  the  big  Duke  chafing  in  his 
curls ! 

{They  laugh  lightly  /  music  /  couples 
return.  As  M.  Beaucaire  and  Lady 
Mary^<^55  a  shout  goes  up  from  out- 
side. MoLYNEUx  and  Lady  Mal- 
bourne  come  l.  c. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  $1 

M.  Beaucaibe. 
\Pausing^      What  enchanting  people !      I 
should  like  to  shout  with  them. 

Lady  Mary. 
I  am  honored,  M.  de  Chateaurien. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
No,  no!    Behol'  a  poor  Frenchman  whom 
Emperors  would  envy. 

\They  turn  away  from  audience.  They 
linger  u.  c.  talkvng  together.  M.  Beau- 
caire removes  his  sword  and  hands  it 
to  FRANgois,  who  turns  and  moves  a 
little  D.  R.  c.  Capt.  Badger  sud- 
denly perceives  Fran§ois,  and  starts. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Molyneux,  Molyneux,  who  is  that  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

Do  you  mean  that  servant  ? 

Capt.  Badger. 
Where  is  it  that  I  have  seen  him  ? 

Molyneux. 
I  see  nothing  in  him  familiar  or  startling. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Francois. 


52  MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE 

Capt.  Badger. 

Ah,  that  name, — that  face !  [Stepping  up  to 
Francois.]  Fellow,  I  remember  you  very 
well,  but  cannot  understand  your  presence 
here.  Will  you  kindly  tell  me  whom  you  are 
attending?  [Looking  hard  at  him.']  Where 
is  your  master  ?  [At  this  moment  Winterset 
is  standing  very  near.  FRANgois  adroitly  turns 
to  him  and  hows  as  though  in  attendance  upon 
him.]     Humph !     Winterset. 

Lady  Clar^se. 

[Amused.]  How  easily  you  are  ruflBed, 
Captain ! 

[TowNBRAKE    and    Lady     Baring- 
Gould  cross  to  group  r. 

Capt.  Badger. 

What  is  Winterset  doing  with  a  French  serv- 
ant ?  It's  scarce  three  hours  since  I  left  that 
fellow  at  a  gambler's  lodgings. 

Lady  ClarIse. 

Wonderful!  Captain  is  becoming  a  de- 
tective. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Hold  !    Why  may  it  not  be 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  53 

Lady  CLAEisE. 
And  I  suppose  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  that 
very,  very  graceful  and  pleasing  servant  did 
not  belong  to  Winterset,  but  to  the  distinguished 
visitor,  you  would  conclude  with  your  indubi- 
table precision  that  the  Duke  was  related  to  the 
gambler  himself.  [M.  Beaucaire  and  Lady 
Mary  withdraw  u.  L.  froin  u.  c]  Ah,  Cap- 
tain, you  are,  indeed,  a  boy,  a  most  hot-headed, 
though  not  entirely  wicked,  boy. 

\She  smiles  at  him  provokingly  over  her 
fan.  In  the  TneantiTne  the  crowd  has 
gathered  ahout  Bantison,  r.  c,  who^ 
delighted  hy  their  attention^  is  letting 
his  imagination  run  riot  hy  improvis- 
ing recollections  concerning  the  home 
(^  the  new  Duke.  Beau  Nash  and 
Lady  Baring-Gould  are  one  half 
U.  R.  0.  The  ladies  laugh  from,  time 
to  time  as  he  proceeds.,  the  gentlemen 
nod  and  talk  together,  hut  a  few 
monosyllabic  roars  from  Winterset 
are  out  of  key  with  the  exclamations 
and  expressions  of  the  others.  Capt. 
Badger  regards  B ai^tison  pityingly 
as  he  and  Lady  ClarJse  approach  him. 

Bantison. 
Ah,  true,  true,  a  most  engaging  fellow ;  such 
blue    blood — very    blue.      Ah,   Lady  Baring- 


54  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Gould,  my  dear  Badge,  I  was  remarking  to 
Lady  Malbourne  how  gratifying  it  is  to  me  to 
observe  the  Duke  de  Chateaurien.  For  some 
years  ago  I  had  the  great  pleasure  of  visiting 
the  chateau. 

[Haery  and  Estelle  are  D.  L. 

Ladies. 
Did  you  ? 

Bantison. 
Ah,  yes,  yes  ;  dear,  old,  delightful  castle.     I 
assure   you — ah,   yes — mossy   towers,  winding 
gardens,   and  all  of   that   sort  of  thing,  you 
know. 

Ladies. 

How  enchanting,   Bantison !     Oh,  yes ;  en- 
chanting,— enchanting, — quite  so. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Bah! 

Bantison. 
Eh? 

Capt.  Badger. 
Do  you  mean  that  you  are  acquainted  with 
the  young  man's  family  ? 

Bantison. 
Eh  ?    Oh — eh — I  believe  they  were  away  at 
the  time. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  55 

Capt.  Badger. 
But  you  saw  their  portraits,  no  doubt  ? 

[Harry  listens  eagerly. 

Bantison. 
Ah — ^no  doubt — yes. 

Capt.  Badger. 
And  the  present  Duke, — was  he  among  them  ? 

Bantison. 
Hang  it  all !    If  you  are  going  to  quarrel — 
the  ladies  ! 

Capt.  Badger. 
[Bowing  c]     As  you  please. 

ESTELLE. 

What  is  it,  Harry,  that  you  are  making  so 
poor  a  failure  to  restrain  ? 

Harry. 
Did  he  not  say  a  painting  of  the  Duke  ? 

ESTELLE. 

Well !    Can  you  think  of  nothing  but  paint- 
ing? 

Harry. 
Could  I  but  remember  where  I  have  seen  it  1 


56  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

ESTELLE. 

What? 

Harey. 
That    face — in    a    gallery — near   the  king. 
Yes  ;  yes,  it  was  in  the  Galerie  Royale ! 

ESTELLE. 

Harry  !    Are  you  mad  ? 

Haery. 
1S.0  ;  Estelle  !     {^Breathless.']     Estelle  I 

ESTELLE. 

Well? 

[M.  Beaucaiee  mid  Lady  Maey  turn 
as  if  to  come  downfroin  steps,  u.  0., 
then  linger. 

Haeey. 

Ah,  there  he  is — coming  this  way  ; — look, 
look! 

Estelle. 

Harry,  I  ca,n  make  nothing  of  what  you  are  say- 
ing. It  is  the  new  Duke  who  is  coming  toward 
us.  He  is  visiting  his  Grace  of  Winterset ;  it  is 
the  Duke  of  Chateaurien.  {Again  M.  Beau- 
caiee and  Lady  Maey  start  to  descend  from 
u.  c.  Haeey  gazes  at  M.  Beaucaiee,  uncon- 
sciously moving  toward  him.  Estelle,  touch- 
ing his  arm.Ji    Harry !  if  you  do  not  cease  staring 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  \j 

SO  rudely  when  a  foreign  guest  arrives  in  Bath, 
you  will  find  yourself  dropped  from  the  Assem- 
blies. Are  these  your  newly  acquired  Parisian 
manners  ? 

Harry. 
Your  pardon,  my  dear  Estelle  ! 

{Tfiey  join  a  group ^  B. 

Sir  Hugh. 
So  glad  you  are  with  us,  my  boy. 

Harry. 
I  thank  you,  Sir  Hugh. 

Sir  Hugh. 
A  painter  too  ;  gad,  now  you  must  all  sit  for 
him,  ladies. 

Harry. 
Is  that  a  commission,  sir  ? 

Sir  Hugh. 
Eh  ?    You  will  take  me  up,  no  doubt !    Lady 
Baring-Gould,  think  you  he  can  do  justice  to 
your  curls  ? 

[All  laugh.  JReenter  M.  Beauoaire 
and  Lady  Mary  at  u.  c. ;  Winter- 
set  talces  out  Lady  Eellertok  d.  l. 
exit. 


58  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Beau  Nash. 

\To    Lady   Malbourne  on  l.]    Quite, — 
quite  perfect,  Lady  Malbourne. 

[^Indicating  M.  Beaucaire  and  Lady 
Mary. 

towistbrake. 

A  handsome  fellow,  to  be  sure,  but  with  no 
taste  whatever  for  cards. 

Beau  Nash. 

[l.]     Indeed  ?    That  is  very  odd  ;  he  has  the 
eye  of  a  shrewd  player. 

Bantison. 

No,  no,  don't  agree  with  you.  Beau  !    I  fancy 

hunting  and  dancing  are  altogether  his  line. 

Now  what  is  your  opinion.  Lady  Malbourne  ? 

[The  groups  withdraw  as  M.  Beaucaire 

and  Lady  Mary  ajpjpi^oach.     Reenter 

M.    Beaucaire    and  Lady   Mary. 

They  advance  c. ;   Winterset  u.  c, 

and  follows  down  as  M.  Beaucaire 

amd  Lady  Mary  approach  d.  l. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Am  I  to  be  lef '  in  such  on-happiness  ?    That 
rose  I  have  beg  for  so  long 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  59 

Lady  Mary. 

Never ! 

\_A8  they  move  down  stage^  the  other 
groups  withdraw  u.  R.  and  u.  L. 
Exeunt  Townbrake,  Lady  Baring- 
Gould,  Bantison  and  Lady,  and 
MoLYNEUX  and  Lady. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah,  I  do  not  deserve  it,  I  know  so  well ! 


But 

Lady  Mary. 
Never  I  [^Exit  first  group. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
It  is  the  greatness  of  my  on  worthiness  that, 
alone,  can  claim  your  charity ;  let  your  kin' 
heart  give  this  little  red  rose,  this  great  alms,  to 
the  poor  beggar. 

[WiNTERSET  appears  u.  c.  and  comes 
down  the  stairs. 

Lady  Mary. 
Never ! 

M.  Beauoaiek 
Ah, give  the  rose. 

Lady  Maby. 

Never !    Never ! 


60  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah! 

Lady  Mary. 
Never ! 

{Drops  rose  at  his  feet  as  she  makes  her 
exit  D,  L.  Cheers  outside  as  Lady 
Mary  goes  out.  The  others  how  to 
Lady  Malbourne,  and  start  to  go^ 
severally. 

WiNTERSET. 

[Advancing.']     A  rose  lasts  'til  morning. 
[Enter  Francois,  d.  c,  am^d  stands  he- 
hind  WiNTERSET. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
'Tis  already  the  daylight,  Monsieur  ;  was  it  not 
enough  honour  for  you  to  han'  out  Madame,  the 
aunt  of  Lady  Mary  ?  Lady  Kellerton  retain 
much  trace  of  beauty.  'Tis  strange  you  did  not 
appear  more  happy. 

WiNTERSET. 

The  rose  is  of  an  unlucky  color,  I  think. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
The  color  of  a  blush,  my  brother. 

Winters  ET. 
Unlucky,  I  still  maintain. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  6l 

M.  Beaucatre. 
The  color  of  the  veins  of  a  Frenchman.  Ha, 
ha !  "What  price  would  be  too  high  ?  A  rose 
is  a  rose  1  A  good-night,  my  brother,  a  good- 
night. I  wish  you  dreams  of  roses,  red  roses, 
only  beautiful  red,  red  roses. 

\Laughing    and    talking  of  ladies  up 
stage. 

WlNTEESET. 

Stay  I  Did  you  see  the  look  she  gave  those 
street  folk  when  they  shouted  for  her  ?  And 
how  are  you  higher  than  they,  when  she  knows  ? 
As  high  as  yonder  horse-boy  ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Franpois,  my  chair.  [JEkit  Fran§ois,  d.  l.] 
Mesdames,  Mesdemoiselles,  good-night  to  this 
faires'  Assembly — and  add,  I  beg,  to  your  long 
lis'  of  English  brave,  the  name  of  one  French- 
man who  leave  his  heart  with  you.  [Goes  u.  c. 
and  pauses  on  the  step  •  to  Winterset.]  Red 
roses,  my  brother,  only  roses.  I  wish  you 
dreams  of  red,  red  roses  ! 


CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

SCENE  1. — A  parTc^  late  in  the  morning.  At 
the  hack,  Sir  Hugh  is  walking  with  several 
ladies.  Molyneux  stands  with  Lady 
Malbouene,  u.  l.  c,  Capt.  Badger  and 
Lady  Clarise  and  Lady  Baring-Gould 
stand  u.  c,  Harry  and  Estelle  sit  on 
the  hench,  D.  R.  C. 

As  the  curtain  rises,  Lady  Malbouene  comes 
a  little  forward,  'Moly'n:e\jx  following. 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Estelle !    Estelle !     Behold  your  work,  Mr. 
Molyneux.     Perhaps  you  are  able  to  convey 
to  my  daughter  that  we  are  starting  for  the 
Bazaar. 

Molyneux. 

Certainly, — yes.  [JSe  steps  c.  toward  Es- 
telle.] Miss  Malbourne,  ahem !  [£imbar- 
rassed,  he  returns  to  Lady  Malbourne.]  Ah 
— er — why  tell  her  at  all,  Madam  ?  Upon  my 
word  she  will  not  miss  you.  {The  others  laugh."] 
Permit  me. 

[He  takes  her  parasol  a/rnd  they  go  u. 
toward  the  others. 
62 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  63 

Sir  Hugh. 
Ladies,   what    say  you?    Shall  we  to  the 
bazaar? 

Lady  Baring-Gould. 
Yes,  pray  let  us  go.     Do  not  be  vexed,  my 
dear  Lady  Malbourne ;  remember  there  was  a 
time  when  you 

Lady  Malbourne. 
Never !    Talked   moonshine — and  in  broad 
daylight  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

And  in  Heaven's  name,  why  not  ? 

Lady  Malbourne. 
\LaugTi{ng!\    I  marvel  you  have  stayed  a 
bachelor,  Mr.  Molyneux. 

{Laughing^  they  move  U.  C.  All  hut 
Harry  and  Estelle  go  out,  gradu- 
ally, in  jpairs,  during  following  dior 
logue. 

Harry. 
Is  it  true,  Estelle  ?    You  do  not  scorn  to  be 
the  wife  of  a  poor  painter  ? 

Estelle. 
Not  a  poor  painter,   Harry, — an  artist.     I 
love  you  because  you  love  and  believe  in  beau- 
tiful things.     No  one  could  help  trusting  you. 


64  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Harry. 
Dear  Estelle !  If  I  could  put  into  words  all 
I  would  say  to  you — but  no  one  could — no  one 
has  ever  been  able  to  say  it,  except  in  music. 
But  I  can  work  for  you,  and  put  my  will  to  de- 
serve you  into  every  stroke  of  my  brush. 

Estelle, 

Come,  let  us  walk  together  and  talk  of  the 
things  we  will  try  to  do. 

{Exeunt  off  D.  L.  Capt.  Badger  U 
just  following  Lady  Clarise  off  u.  r. 
when  he  stops  suddenly  as  lie  perceives 
Lady  Mary  and  M.  Beaucaire  enter 
u.  L.  0. 

Lady  Mary. 
You  will  dine  with  us  to-night,  M.  le  Due  ? 

M.  Beaucaire 

I  shall  come.  But  the  feas'  is  superfluous, 
Mademoiselle,  to  that  feas'  I  have  al-ways, 
when  you  graciously  permit  me  to  be  near. 

{Exit  Capt.  Badger  abrujpUy. 

Lady  Mary. 

I  know  not  how  to  answer  you,  sir.  But  I 
had  forgot  to  thank  you  for  the  verses  of  your 
French  poet.     They  are  very  beautiful. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  6$ 

M.  Beaucaire. 
I  thank  you  for  him,  Mademoiselle.    How 
happy  it  will  make  him  when  he  know'  I 

Lady  Mary. 
He  is,  then,  a  friend  of  yours  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Oh,  yes — he  is  a  dear  frien'.     But  is  there 
not,  in  the  verses,  too  much  for  you  of — of  the 
romance.  Lady  Mary  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
{Laughing  lightly.']     You  think  we  English 
have  no  romance,  sir  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[Aside.']     If  I  could  but  know  how  much! 
[To  her.]     Mr.  Molyneux  tell  me  it  is  a  thing 
of  danger — in  England.     [Aside.]     Ah,  for  me 
—yes! 

Lady  Mary. 
A  danger  only  when  it  is  used  wrongly,  sir. 
Is  it  not  like  a  cloak  that  should  adorn,  but  not 
disguise  ?  An  innocent  romance  we  quite 
adore ;  did  you  not  see  Estelle  Malbourne 
walking  in  the  woods  yonder  with  dear  young 
Harry  ?  A  boy  without  a  penny,  sir,  and  she, 
the  daughter  of  a  lady  of  the  proudest  pedi- 


66  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

free.    Theirs  is  romance  truly,  but  it  does  not 
urt  them.     It  will  but  teach  them  to  climb — • 
the  wall.  \In  half  whisjper,  looking  front. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[Softly.']  Yes,  to  climb  the  wall — and  to 
look  over  into  the  rich  gardens  beyond.  Who 
does  not  long  to  climb  that  wall — and  who 
does  not  try?  Ah,  Lady  Mary,  tell  me  one 
thing,  I  beg.  You  would  not  think  it  wrong 
to  climb  up  there — for  a  man  to  reach  that 
f aires'  garden — by  wearing  for  a  little,  jus'  a 
trifle,  the  cloak  of  another's  disguise  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
"What  is  that  you  ask,  sir  ?    I  do  not  fully 
understand. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
If    T    could    only   make  you  to  see.     Ah, 
Mademoiselle,   a    man  will    do    anything   to 
reach  that  garden — an'  has  he  not  the  right — 
if  he  belong  there  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
You  puzzle  me,  sir,  I  confess.    Why  need 
there  be  any  disguise  for  a  true  man  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[Aside.']     Is  it — can  it  be  ?    No,  no,  I  will 
not  let  them  fade,  those  roses,  I  will  hoP  them 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  67 

too  close  to  my  heart !  {To  her.]  Madem- 
oiselle, one  day  I  will  teU  you  why  I  ask 
these  strange  questions — you  trus'  me,  Madem- 
oiselle ? 

Lady  Maey. 
It  were  either  dull  or  ungracious  in  me  to  do 
otherwise,  Monsieur. 

[Miter  Capt.  Badger,  v.'R.;  he  cornea 
abrv/pUy^  D.  c. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Pardon,  Lady  Mary,  Lady  Kellerton  be^ 
you  to  drive  with  her  and  with  Clarise.     "WiU 
you  not  join  them  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
[  Wearily ^^     Yes.     [  Very    sweetly.']     M.    de 
Chateaurien,  we  shall  be  waiting  for  you  to- 
night. 

M.  Beaucairb. 
Mademoiselle,  your  servant  al-ways.  [Bows. 
Lady  Mary  starts  u.  L,  M.  Beaucaire  fol-^ 
lows  her  u.,  and  hows  her  off  u.  L.  ;  then  he  re- 
turns D.  L.  c]  Captain  Badger — poor  you  an' 
me  are  lef  in  the  col'  shadow.  The  sun  has 
gone. 

Capt.  Badger. 
You  may  keep  your  poetry  to  yourself,  sir ! 


68  MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah  ?    1  thought  I  had  been  present'  to  you  at 
Lady  Malbourne  !     I  see  I  am  mistaken. 

Capt.  Badger. 

Fellow !  My  forbearance  to  disclose  your 
low  birth  was  merely  out  of  delicacy  to  a 
lady How  you  deceived  the  Duke 


Monsieur ! 


M.  Beaucaire. 


Capt.  Badger. 


That,  I  say,  has  no  bearing  on  the  matter. 
Enough  that  you  play  suitor  to  this  lady 

M.  Beaucaire. 
JSip! 

Capt.  Badger. 

Do  I  not  make  myself  clear  ?    Then  permit 
"^me  to  tell  you  bluntly  that  you  are  an  im- 
postor.    Chateaurien  is  nothing! 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Ah,  so,  Monsieur !  Yery  well — nothing 
means  nothing.  But  we  shall  see.  I  advise 
you  make  good  practice  with  your  swor' ! 

[Enter  Lady  ClarIse  during  last  speech. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  69 

Lady  ClarIse. 

Captain,  Captain — I  knew  it — a  quarrel  with 
the  Duke, — and  your  promise  to  me  ;  what  of 
that,  sir  ? 

Capt.  Badger. 
Pray  return  to  the  carriage,  Madam ;  this  is 
no  encounter  for  a  lady  to  witness. 

Lady  Clartse. 

And  is  it  an  encounter  for  a  gentleman  to 
enter  ?  What  strange  notion  has  taken  posses- 
sion of  you,  that  you  dare  bring  charges  against 
a  duke  ? 

Capt.  Badger. 

It  were  cause  enough,  Madam,  that  you  are 
so  ready  to  espouse  his  cause.  He  has  insulted 
all  the  ladies  with  his  insufferable  deception 
quite  as  completely  as  he  has  bewitched  you 
with  his  insolent  affectation. 

■  Lady  Clarise. 

What  folly  to  permit  your  pride  and  jealousy 
— yes,  I  fear  that  is  the  word,  sir — to  plunge 
you  into  a  quarrel  with  a  French  gentleman  1 

Capt.  Badger. 
A  gentleman ! 


fO  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Lady  CLAEisE. 

Can  you  prove,  sir,  that  he  is  less  ?  You  are 
in  danger  of  being  laughed  at,  Captain. 

Capt.  Badger. 

And  you,  Madam,  run  the  risk  of  believing 
in  an  unknovt^n  trifler  who  hides  his  low  birtn 
beneath  a  satin  coat  and  the  title  of  a  duke. 
Since  you  are  so  vehement  in  his  behalf, 
Madam,  I  will  confide  to  you  the  intelligence 
that  a  certain  French  lackey  who  was  con- 
stantly in  attendance  upon  that  young  gambler, 
known  as — Beaucaire — myself  discovered  wait- 
ing at  Lady  Malbourne's  ball — as  the  chief  at- 
tendant upon  this  Chateaurien. 

Lady  CLAEtsE. 

{Laimhing.']  A  monstrous  proof !  And  do 
servants  never  change  their  masters?  Think 
you,  when  a  foreign  duke  arrives  at  Bath,  a 
mere  gambler  could  retain  his  followers  ? 

Capt.  Badgee. 
Tour  excuses  are  highly  ingenious.  Madam ! 

Lady  Claeise. 

Will  you  correct  me,  M.  de  Chateaurien,  if  I 
have  deduced  wrongly  ? 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  /I 

M.  Beaucaire. 
With  the  permission  of  Mademoiselle  I  will 
answer  that  question  with  my  swor'. 

Capt.  Badger. 

Aha !    You  see ! 

Lady  ClarIse. 
{(Quickly ^    No,  no,  I  beg  you,  do  not  fight. 
Deny  his  taunts,  M.  le  Due. 

Capt.  Badger. 
It  would  be  useless,  Clarise  ;  I  would  not  be- 
lieve him  if  he  did. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Mademoiselle,  I  give  you  my  word  I  am  of 
as  good  birth  as  he — is  that  enough  ? 

Lady  Clarise. 

Yes,  yes.  Monsieur.    [Bows;  turning  to  Capt. 

Badger.]     Captain  Badger,  you  had  nearly 

won    my   heart — henceforth,   you    must   seek 

your  lady — elsewhere.  [Mait,  u.  r. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
An'  she  is  an  English  lady  ! 

Capt.  Badger. 
Sir!     Another  word  of  her  and  I  will  not 
stand  upon  ceremony.    Harry — Harry  Rackell ! 


72  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

\Enter  Harry  u.  l.,  followed  ly  Molyneux 
U.  R.]  Harry,  this  person  wishes  to  iight  me. 
Though  convinced  of  his  low  birth,  I  will  deign 
to  cross  swords  with  him  for  the  sake  of  ridding 
Bath  of  an  impostor. 

Harry. 

Sir !     Tell  me  first 

Capt.  Badger. 
{^Waving    off  his   interruption.']     Will   you 
kindly  act  as  my  second  ?     His  lackey  will  no 
doubt  act  for  him. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[d.  l.]     My  servant  knows  better  his  place, 
sir !     Mr.  Molyneux,  may  I  presume  on  your 
kindness  ? 

Molyneux. 

Certainly,  sir. 

Capt.  Badger. 
One  moment,  Molyneux.     Do  not  mix  your 
name  with  that  fellow's  affairs.     Do  you  sup- 
pose I  am  acting  without  reason  ?    Harry,  you 
will  find  me  at  my  lodgings. 

Harry. 
[c]     But  I  must  decline  your  invitation  to 
act  for  you. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  73 

Capt.  Badger, 
[d.  e.]    What ! 

Haery. 

You  may  have  my  reason  if  you  wish,  Cap- 
tain ;  I  know  you  will  laugh  at  it. 

Capt.  Badgee. 

I  think  nothing  you  could  say  or  do  will 
afford  me  the  slightest  merriment  in  the  future, 
Mr.  Rackell.  {Turns  angrily  on  his  heel. 

Harry. 

{Grosses  c.l  Wait,  Captain,  I  dislike  to  re- 
fuse you.  If  you  really  think  this  gentleman 
is  an  impostor,  I  don't  blame  you  for  fighting 
him. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Thank  you ! 

Harry. 

But  I  don't  believe  he  is.  And  I  hate  scandal, 
sir — and  since  the  man  or  woman  does  not 
breathe  who  may  be  entirely  free  from  it,  I 
prefer  to  judge  from  faces — not  stories. 

Molyneux 
Well  said,  Harry ! 


74  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Capt.  Badger. 

Ah,  your  chin  is  still  quite  smooth,  I  see.  I 
had  thought  you  were  full-grown.  Master 
Harry.  It  is  evident  a  pretty  face  may  subdue 
you  as  well  as  the  ladies. 

Harry. 

Say  what  you  like,  I  will  bear  you  no  malice. 
Captain  Badger.  And  though  I  know  it  will 
cost  me  another  laugh,  I  will  tell  you  why  I 
refuse  to  act  for  you.  It  is  because  this  gentle- 
man bears  so  striking  a  resemblance  to  a  certain 
face  I  have  seen  in  the  royal  galleries  at  Paris 
— no  less,  indeed,  than  the  king's  own  cousin, 
Louis  Philippe  de  Yalois.  Were  I  to  act 
against  this  gentleman,  I  should  feel  I  were 
committing  an  affront  against  a  royal  prince  of 
France.  [M.  Beaucaire  heams. 

M.  Beaucaire, 

\Aside?}^  An'  he  is  an  Englishman!  \To 
Harry.]  I  thank  you  for  your  kin'  sentiment, 
Monsieur. 

Capt.  Badger. 

Sentiment! — Pah!      Molyneux,     have    the 

foodness  to  request  Townbrake  to  attend  me. 
entimental  ninny ! 

[Snajypmg  his  imgers  at  Harry. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  7S 

M.  Beauoaire. 

Captain  Badger,  I  will  answer  your  insnlta 
here — at  five  o'clock,  to-day. 

[Capt.  Badger  strides  off  u.  R.  growl- 
ing.  M.  Beaucaire  offers  his  ha/ni 
to  Harry,  looking  with  interest  into 
the  young  vw/n^sface. 

CURTAIN 


SCENE  2. — The  sarne,  late  in  the  afternoon^ 
MoLYNEUX  is  advancing  to  Capt.  Badgeb 
who  is  lying  disarmed  against  ToWN« 
brake's  knees.  M.  Beaucaire  is  replao- 
ing  his  sword  in  its  scahhard  and  rea/rra/ng-^ 
ing  his  toilet  D.  L. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Shall  I  sen'  you  a  doctor,  Monsieur  ?  Fran« 
cois,  despatch  Jean  for  a  doctor.  I  hope  I 
have  not  prick'  you  in  an  ugly  place  ? 

Capt.  Badger. 

Curse  you,  hound !  The  devil  fought  with 
you. 


76  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaike. 
Oh,  no— only  that  kin'  angel,  my  honour. 
An'  now,  gentlemen,  I  beg  you  to  excuse  me. 
My  men  shall  ren'er  you  any  service.  My 
thanks  to  you  again,  M.  Molyneux.  Farewell, 
gentlemen  ;  in  an  appointment  with  a  lady  one 
mus'  be  never  one  secon'  late.     Adieu. 

\_Exit^  u.  L. 
Capt.  Badger. 
Zounds  !    Will  nothing  stop  his  impudence  ? 
A  lady — yes,  and  no  less  a  lady  than  the  Beauty 
of  Bath.     Oh,  'tis  insafferable  ! 

TOWNBRAKE. 

Quiet,  I  say,  Badger,  or  you'll  pay  for  it,  you 
know.  He  certainly  made  a  clean  hit,  you 
know. 

[Capt.  Badger  groans  with  disgust. 
Enter  Winterset,  u.  r.,  m  deep  con- 
cern. 

Winterset. 
My  dear  Captain,  I  am  at  a  loss  for  words. 

{Grossing  quietly  to  R.  0. 

Capt.  Badger. 
And  I  for  blood — with  thanks  to  your  French 
duke! 

WlNTERSET. 

Alas !    I  have  just  heard  the  truth. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  7f 

Capt.  Badger. 
Then  you'd  better  convince  Molyneux.     He 
acted  on  the  varlet's  behalf. 

WlNTERSET. 

\A  step  ^<noa/*6?  MoLYNEUX.]  No!— Can  it 
be  possible  ?  Say  no  more,  gentlemen,  for  my 
shame  overcomes  me — that  I  should  have  in- 
troduced him.  Ah — teach  me  what  I  may  do 
to  atone  for  this  ! 

Capt.  Badger. 
Oh,  I  don't  blame  you,  Winterset ;  you  were 
no  duller  than  the  rest  of  us — and  'twas  a  deuced 
clever  disguise.     Make  him  pay  for  it — that's 
all  I  ask. 

Winterset. 
How  shaU  it  be  done,  my  dear  friends  ?    I 
am  zealous  to  embrace  any  plan  that  may  cancel 
my  disastrous  mistake. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Then  don't  attempt  to  kill  him.    Zounds! 
the  devil  himself  could  not  fight  better. 

Winterset. 
It  is  a  risk — that  is  evident. 

Townbrake. 
He's  no  gentleman  and  don't  deserve  to  be 
fought  with.     Fall  on  him  when  he's  alone. 


78  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WiNTEESET. 

All  of  US — that's  it. 

TOWNBEAKE. 

Lash  him  to  a  post  and  let  our  lackeys  lay  on 
%>  him! 

WiNTEESET. 

[r.  c.JI  Ah — ah — you  have  hit  it,  Townbrake. 
And  if  It  could  be  brought  about  in  the  presence 
«Df  the  ladies,  I  vow  I  should  be  satisfied. 

Capt.  Badgee. 
Tes — yes !    Good,  lads ! 

MOLYNEUX. 

TChat  seems  scarcely  worthy  of  you,  gentle- 
"snen.  Is  it  true,  Winterset,  that  you  are  con- 
vinced of  your  mistake  ?  I  have  heard  no 
proof. 

WiNTEESET. 

Alas,  Mr.  Molyneux !  It  is  with  a  heavy 
lieart  that  I  confirm  the  facts.  I  have  dis- 
■covered  that  Beaucaire  left  Bath  on  the  very 
:iiight  of  Chateaurien's  arrival.  Captain  Badger 
liai  sent  me  the  startling  news  concerning  one 
•of  Beaucaire's  servants,  and  upon  inquiry  1  find 
t.hat  all  of  them  now  belong  to  Chateaurien. 

Molyneux. 
I  am  heartily  sorry.     In  spite  of  what  you 
tsay,  he  appears  a  gentleman. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  79 

TOWNBRAKE. 

At  first,  of  course  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  see  now 
how  low-born  and  ill-mannered  the  cur  is. 

MOLYNEUX. 

Ah  !  well,  I  am  sorry. 

TOWNBRAKE. 

Join  us,  then,  Molyneux ;  we  will  take  masks 
and  cloaks,  and  surprise  him  this  very  evening. 

WiNTERSET. 

Before  the  ladies, — do  not  forget  that  point. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Humph!    That  will    not    be    difficult!    Is 
there  not  a  full  moon  to-night,  and  he's  dining 
at  Lady  Rellerton's,  is  he  not,  Winterset  ? 

{Stage  grows  darker. 

Winterset. 
Too  true,  indeed,  Captain.  The  young 
French  rascal  is  at  this  moment  chattering 
glibly  at  the  side  of  Lady  Mary ;  and,  gentle- 
men— be  it  said  to  our  dishonour — they  will 
certainly  stroll  out  to  the  park  on  a  nignt  like 
this. 

Molyneux. 
Our  scheme  is  concluded,  then  ? 


80  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WlNTERSET. 

Get  Harry  Rackell;  we  want  six  men,  at 
least. 

MOLTNEUX. 

He  will  not  come. 

Capt.  Badger. 
To  lay  hands  on  a  royal  peer  of  France? 
Not  he  1  {TJiey  all  laugh. 

WlNTERSET. 

Then  send,  one  of  you,  for  Sir  Hugh. 

TOWNBRAKE. 

I'll  join  you  in  an  hour  at  your  house,  Win- 
terset.     Come,  Captain,  I'll  see  you  disposed. 

MOLYNEUX. 

I,  too,  in  apology,  friend  Badger. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Oh,  I  forgive  you,  Molyneux  ;  only  lash  the 
villain  soundly ! 

WiNTERSET. 

Trust  us,  Captain.    In  an  hour,  gentlemen. 

TOWNBRAKE. 

My  man  shall  bring  masks  for  all.    In  an 
hour,  then. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  8 1 

\Exeunt  all  hut  Winterset,  u.  l.  He 
watches  them  offy  then  rvhs  his  hands, 
smiling  grimly. 

WiNTERSET. 

Ha!    Those  red  roses  begin  to  fade — my 
young  Frenchman ! 


CURTAIN 


SCENE  Z.—The  same.  Night.  Just  lefore 
the  curtain  rises,  catches  of  a  French  song 
come  from  off  stage,  ending  "  Oh  mon  j^ays, 
Sois  mes  amours  toujoursP  The  stage  is 
obscure.  Off  R.  there  is  a  soft  light,  barely 
suggestive  of  a  momi. 

M.  Beaucaire  and  Lady  Mary  enter  u.  L. 
and  walk  slowly  to  n.  c,  nea/r  the  bench. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Mademoiselle,  I,  too,  have  been  a  wanderer, 
but  my  dreams  were  not  of  France ;  no,  I  do 
not  dream  of  that  home,  of  that  dear  country. 
It  is  of  a  dearer  country,  a  dreami  country — a 
country  of  gol'  and  snow — ah !  gol'  and  snow, 
and  the  blue  sky  of  a  lady's  eyes  ! 


82  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Lady  Maey. 
I  had  thought  the  ladies  of  France  were 
dark,  sir. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Cruel !  It  is  that  she  will  not  understan' ! 
Have  I  speak  of  the  ladies  of  France?  No, 
no,  no  !  It  is  of  the  faires'  country  ;  yes,  'tis  a 
province  of  heaven,  Mademoiselle.  Do  I  not 
renounce  my  allegiance  to  France  ?  Oh,  yes ! 
I  am  subjec' — no,  content  to  be  slave — in  the 
Ian'  of  the  blue  sky,  the  gol',  and  the  snow. 

{She  moves  to  hench  and  sits  wpon  it  stUl 
turning  away  from  him. 

Lady  Mary. 
A  very  pretty  figure;   but  does  it  not  hint 
a  notable  experience  in  the  making  of  such 
speeches  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Tormentress  !     No.     It  prov'  only  the  inspi- 
ration it  is  to  know  you. 

Lady  Mary. 
We  English  ladies  hear  plenty  of  the  like, 
sir ;  and  we  even  grow  brilliant  enough  to  de- 
tect   the  assurance  that  lies   underneath  the 
courtesies  of  our  own  gallants. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Merci !    I  should  believe  so ! 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  83 

Lady  Maby. 

"We  come,  in  time,  to  believe  that  true  feel- 
ing comes  faltering  forth,  not  glibly ;  that 
smoothness  betokens  the  adept  in  the  art,  sir, 
rather  than  your  true — your  true 

M.  Beaucaire. 

{Coming  closer  to  her.']  Your — true — ^lover. 
[She  rises.]  I  know  what  make  you  to  doubt 
me  ;  they  have  toF  you  the  French  do  nothing 
al-ways  but  make  love,  is  it  not  so  ?  Yes,  you 
think  I  am  like  that.  You  think  I  am  like 
that  now !  I  suppose  I  am  unriz'nable,  but  I 
would  have  the  snow  not  so  col' — for  jus'  me. 
[Faintly  a  hunting  horn  sounds  in  the  distance.'] 

Turn  to  me [He  takes  her  hand  L.]    Turn 

to  me ! 

[The  horn  sounds  nearer  1  she  looks  up  at 
him. 

Lady  Mary. 
All  the  cold  was  gone  from  the  snow — long 
a^o. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

My  beautiful  I    My  beautiful ! 

[They  hoth  stand  and  instinctively  take 
one  step  together,  D.  stage.  Suddenly 
a  clatter  is  /leard  and  wild  halloo. 


94  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Voices. 
\0f  stage.']    'Ware  the  road!    'Ware  the 
road! 

[Lady  Mary  seises  Ms  arm  and  draws 
him  fxbriher  D.  R.  Six  men  with 
drawn  swords  rush  on  from  u.  L. 

Men. 
Barber!    Kill    the    barber!     Barber!    Kill 
the  barber ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[DroAJoing.']  A  moi !  a  moi !  Franyois,  Louis, 
Berquin  1  A  moi,  Franpois !  \^The  men  attack 
M.  Beaucaire  who  defends  himself  with  re- 
marhahle  agility i\  Sacred  swine !  To  en- 
danger a  lady,  to  make  this  brawl  in  a  lady's 
presence  !     {To  Lady  Mary.]     Pray  go  I 

Lady  Mary. 
No! 

Men. 
Barber !     Barber ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
See  how  he  use'  his  steel !  Ha,  ha !  \He 
cleaves  the  space  ahout  him.  As  he  hits  Town- 
brake  arid  engages  with  Gentleman  No.  i, 
Oentlema/n,  No.  2  comes  from  behind  a/nd 
touches  him  ;  quick  time.']     Canaille  ! 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  85 

\Ile  whirls  about  and  fences  on  all  sides 
at  once.  He  brings  to  the  ground 
Gentleman  JVo.  2.  WiNTERSET 
stands,  half  hidden,  u.  L. 

"VVlNTERSET. 

Is  it  not  a  compliment  to  bring  six  large  men 
to  subdue  Monsieur  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Oh,  you  are  there,  my  f  rien' !    In  the  rear 
— a  little  in  the  rear,  I  think.     Ha,  ha ! 

Lady  Mary. 
Sir  Hugh  Guilford !    If  you  will  not  help 
him,  give  me  your  sword  ! 

Sir  Hugh. 
Do  not  be  alarmed,  Madame,  Lady  Kellerton 
is  at  hand,  and  your  coach — you  will  please 
join  her. 

Lady  Mary. 
Never  !    Ah,  what  cowards  !    Will  you  mur- 
der the  Duke  ?  [^Qtdck  time. 
Sir  Hugh. 
The  Duke !    "We  will  not  kill  him,  unless — 

be  easy,  dear  Madame,  'twill  be  explained 

[^Enter  Lady  Kellerton,  d.  b. 

Lady  Eellerton. 
Do  not  stay  here,  Mary ;  the  coach  is  waiting. 


86  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Lady  Maby. 
I  will  not  come  ! 

Sir  Hugh. 
Gad's  life !    'Twere  time  the  varlet  had  his 
lashing  !     D'ye  hear  her  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

Barber  or  no  barber,  he  fights  as  few  gentle- 
men could.  Ah — ah !  Look  at  that !  'Tis  a 
shame ! 

[M.  Beatjoaire  is  at  last  hrought  down 
hy  a  lunge  from  hehind  hy  Gentle- 
TnoAi  No.  1. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
A  moi !  a  moi !     rran9ois ! 

Molyneux. 
Shame!     'Twas  dastardly  to  take  him  so. 
He's  no  barber,  no,  and  never  was  ! 

WiNTERSET. 

Truss  him  up,  lads.  Now,  Whiffen,  you  have 
a  fair  audience,  lay  on  and  baste  him. 

\Oentleman  No.  1  and  Bantison  coTne 
toward  M.  Beaucaire  and  hegin  to 
drag  him  hack  toward  u.  c.  Winter- 
set  takes  a  long  whip  from  under  his 
cloak.  Gentleman  No.  1  hinds  ropes 
about  M.  Beaucaire's  arms  hehind. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  87 

M.  Beaucaire. 
A  moi,  Francois ! 

{In  the  distance  M.  Beaucaire*8  Ttien 
shout  o^  stage,  "  Monseigneur  !  Mon- 
seigneur  !  "  Clatter  off  stage  as  shouts 
come  nearer.  M.  Beaucaike's  men 
rush  on,  swords  drawn. 

M.  Beaucaire's  Men. 
Chateaurien !     Chateaurien ! 

[Francois  and  Louis  lea^  to  the  side 
of  M.  Beaucaire.  Louis  pierces 
Oentleman  No.  1,  who  falls;  he  then 
releases  M.  Beaucaire,  and  he  and 
FRANgois  support  him,  while  Jean 
routs  TowNBRAKE  o/nd  Bantison. 
YiCTOR  speeds  towards  Sir  Hugh, 
bringing  him  down  at  a  blow;  Ber- 
QUIN  engages  Townbrake  ;  the  other 
two  attack  Winterset,  who  tries  to 
evade  fighting.  M.  Beaucaire  stag- 
gers D.  sta^e  in  the  a/rras  of  Francois 
amd  Louis. 

MOLYNEUX. 

\As  Sir  HuGH/a?^5.]    Our  just  deserts ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Tiens !    Tiens !  mes  enfants !    \His  men  cea^e 
fighting.     Lady  Mary  goes  to  him  and  gi/oea 


86  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

him  her  hounds.  He  springs  up  and  hows."]  I 
make  ten  thousan'  apology  to  be  the  cause  of 
such  a  melee  in  your  presence.  \_IIis  men  now 
group  L.  C,  wMle  the  gentlemen  retire  to  cor- 
ners^ Ah — belitre !  un  peu,  et  il  aurait  ete 
trop  tard. 

FEANgOIS. 

\_Coming  forward  and  kneeling.']  Pardon! 
Monseigneur  nous  a  commande  de  suivre  a 
lointain,  et  de  rester  oscure.  II  y  avait  trop 
de  vent  contre  le  voix  de  Monseigneur. 

M.  Beaucaike. 
Voyez  la  prix — qui  pent  etre,  mes  enfants ! 

[Pointing  to  the  rope. 

FRAWpOIS. 

Oh,  Monseigneur ! 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Mais  ce  n'est  pas  fait ! 

FEANpOIS. 

C'erait  impossible ! 

M.  Beatjcaiee. 
Oui.     Et  vous  avez  fait  tres  bien,  tres  bien, 
mes  enfants.     And  now — one  must  ask  our  gal- 
lants yonder  what  make  them  to  turn  highway- 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  89 

men.     One  should  come  to  a  polite  understand- 
ing with  them,  not  so  ? 

\His  men  withdraw  u.  c,  hut  near  him  / 
he  confronts  the  gentlemen. 

Lady  Mary. 
Monseigneur  !     [M.  Beaucaire  tur7is  svd- 
denly^   hut    the   movement  causes  him   to  feel 
faintj   he  claps  his  hand  over  his  wound  on 
right  shoulder  J]    You  are  hurt ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
It  is  nothing.     I  am  a  little — but  jus'  a  tri- 
fling— bruise' ;  'tis  all. 

Lady  Mary. 
You  shall  ride  in  the  coach.     Will  you  be 
pleased,  M.  de  Chateaurien  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah,  my  beautiful !     I  wish  that  ride  might 
las'  for  al-ways !     Can  you  say  that,  Madem- 
oiselle ? 

Lady  Mary. 
Monseigneur,  I  would  what  you  would  have 
be  should  be.    What  do  you  not  deserve  ?    You 
are  the  bravest  man  in  the  world  ! 

[TowNBRAKE  and  Bantison  start  with 
Sir  Hugh  to  go  u.  l.  c. 


90  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
Ha,  ha  !    I  am  jus'  a  poor  Frenchman. 

Lady  Mary. 
"Would  that  a  few  Englishmen  had  shown 

themselves  as   "poor"  to-night \Gentle- 

man  No.  1,  Bantison  and  Molyneux  are 
helping  Sir  Hugh  off  u.  r.,  behind  M.  Beau- 
CAiRE  and  Lady  Mary.]  The  vile  cowards 
to  attack  you  !  My  little  poltroons,  what  are 
you  doing  with  your  fellow -craven.  Sir  Hugh 
Guilford  ? 

MOLYNEUX. 

Madame,  Sir  Hugh's  leg  is  broken.  Lady 
Rellerton  graciously  permits  him  to  be  taken 
to  the  coach. 

Lady  Mary. 
I  do  not  permit  it,     M.  de  Chateaurien  rides 
with  us. 

MOLYNEUX. 

But 

Lady  Mary. 

Sir !  Leave  the  wretch  to  groan  by  the 
roadside,  which  plight  I  would  were  that  of 
all  of  you  !  But  there  will  be  a  pretty  story 
for  the  gossips  to-morrow  !  Fine  gentlemen, 
you ;  hardy  bravos,  by  heaven !    To  try  a  gen- 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  9I 

tleman's  skill  at  fencing  by  surprising  him  and 
falling  upon  him  as  if  you  were  highwaymen. 
You  presume  too  far  on  the  Duke's  good  na- 
ture to  resort  to  such  a  trick.  But  aU  Bath 
shall  know  of  it,  I  promise  you — and  then — 
ah,  the  wits !    Heaven  save  you  from  the  wits ! 

MOLYNEUX. 

Madam 

Lady  Mary. 
Address  me  no  more !    M.  de  Chateaurien, 
Lady  Kellerton  and  I  will  greatly  esteem  the 
honour  of  your  company  ;  will  you  come  ? 

WiNTEESET. 

\^Gorriing  L.  c.  cmd  unmasking.^  Lady 
Mary  Carlysle  will  no  doubt  listen  to  a  word  of 
counsel  on  this  point. 

Lady  Kellerton. 
Gracious  heavens,  'tis  Winterset  I 

Lady  Mary. 
Turned  highwayman  and  cut-throat  I 

M.  Beaucaire. 
No,  no  [laughs'],  he  only  oversee' ;  he  is  jus' 
a  little  bashful,  sometime'.     He  is  a  great  man, 
but  he  don'  want  all  the  glory  ! 


99  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

WiNTERSET. 

Barber  !  a  lackey  who  has  himself  followed 
by  six  other  lackeys 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Have  prove  a  match  for  your  Bath  noble' — 
not  so  ?    I  think  mine  mus'  be  the  bes'  siiL 
Ha,  ha ! 

Lady  Mary. 
M.  de  Chateaurien,  we  are  waiting  for  you. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Pardon.     He  has  something  to  say  ;  maybe 
it  is  bes'  if  you  hear  it  now. 

Lady  Mary, 
I  wish  to  hear  nothing  from  him — ever ! 

Winterset. 
My  faith,  Madam,  this  saucy  fellow  has  paid 
you  the  last  insult.     He  is  so  sure  of  you  he 
does  not  fear  you  will  believe 

Lady  Mary. 
I'll  hear  no  more. 

Winterset. 
You  will  bitterly  repent  it,  Madam  ;  for  your 
own  sake,  I  beg 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  93 

M.  Beaucaire. 
And  I  also.     Permit  me,  Mademoiselle;  let 
him  speak. 

Lady  Mary. 
Then  let  him  be  brief.     His  explanation  of  an 
attack   upon  my  friend  and  in  my   presence 
should  be  made  to  my  brother. 

WiNTERSET. 

Madam,  I  have  endeavored  only  to  expunge 
a  debt  I  owed  to  Bath,  and  to  avenge  an  insult 
offered  to  yourself  through 

Lady  Mary. 
Sir,  sir,  my  patience  will  bear  little  more ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
A  thousan'  apology.     You  will  listen,  I  only 
beg.  Lady  Mary  ? 

Lady  Mary. 

Well? 

WiNTERSET. 

You  recollect  that  several  months  ago  a 
French  gambler  came  to  Bath,  calling  himself 
Beaucaire ;  that  he  was  proved  to  be  no  less 
than  a  lackey  of  the  French  king's  Ambassador, 
Victor  by  name,  de  Mirepoix's  barber.  One 
evening,  three  weeks  gone,  I  observed  a  very 


94  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

elegant  equipage  draw  up  to  my  door,  and  the 
Duke  of  Chateaurien  was  announced.  He  de- 
clared himself  a  noble,  traveUing  for  pleasure. 
He  had  taken  lodgings  in  Bath  for  a  season,  he 
said,  and  called,  at  once,  to  pay  his  respects  to 
me.  His  tone  was  so  candid — in  truth,  I  am 
the  simplest  of  men,  very  easily  gulled 

Lady  Maey. 
Is  your  farrago  nigh  done,  sir  ? 

WiNTERSET. 

A  few  moments,  Madam.  His  stroke  was  so 
bold  that  I  did  not  for  a  moment  suspect  him  ; 
and,  to  my  poignant  regret,  that  very  evening 
I  had  the  shame  of  presenting  him  to  yourselE 

Lady  Mary. 
The  shame,  sir  ? 

WiNTERSET. 

Ay,  the  shame  !  All  ran  merrily  with  him 
until  to-day,  when  Captain  Badger  denounced 
him  as  an  impostor,  vowing  that  Chateaurien 
was  nothing.  [Lady  Mary  starts;  she  is 
studyvng  M.  Beaucaire's  face.]  Poor  Captain 
Badger  was  stabbed  this  very  afternoon,  and 
sending  for  these  gentlemen  and  myself — he 
imparted  to  us  a  very  horrifying  intelligence. 
He  had  discovered  that  a  lackey  whom  he  had 
seen  at  Beaucaire's  lodgings  was  in  constant  at- 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  95 

tendance  upon  Chateaurien.  Beaucaire  had 
disappeared.  The  Captain  looked  closely  at 
this  Chateaurien  at  their  next  meeting,  and 
identified  the  gambler  beyond  the  faintest 
doubt.  Look  at  him,  Madam,  if  he  will  dare 
the  inspection ;  you  saw  this  Beaucaire  well — 
the  day  Mr.  Nash  expelled  him  from  the  rooms. 
Is  not  this  he  ? 

[M.  Beaucaire  steps  dose  to  her  and 
looks  straight  into  her  face. 

M.  Beaucaibe. 
Look! 

Lady  Mary. 
Oh,  oh ! 

[Putting  ovt  her  hamd  to  Lady  Rel- 

LERTON 

WiNTEESET. 

Is  it  not  so  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
I  do  not  know — I  cannot  tell. 

"W1NTER8ET. 
This  is  why,  with  the  aid  of  these  gentlemen, 
I  arranged  to  give  the  rascal  a  lashing  under 
your  own  eyes,  a  satisfaction  due  the  lady  into 
whose  presence  he  had  dared  to  force  himself. 


96  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beauoaiee. 
"  Noblesse  oblige  "  ? 

Lady  Mary. 
It  is  false  ? 

M.  Beaucaieb. 
Monsieur  should  not  have  been  born  so  high. 
He  could  have  made  little  book ! 

Lady  Maey. 
You  mean  it  is  false  ? 

BANTisoisr. 
'Od's  blood,  is  she  not  convinced  ?    Fellow, 
were  you  not  the  Ambassador's  barber  ? 

Lady  Maey. 
It  is  all  false ! 

M.  Beauoaiee. 

The  mos't  fine  art,  Mademoiselle.  How  long 
you  think  it  take  M.  de  Winterset  to  learn  that 
speech  after  he  write  it  out  ?  It  is  a  mix  of 
what  is  true  an'  the  mos'  chaste  art. 

Molyneux. 
Will  you  answer  a  question  ? 

M.  Beauoaiee. 
Oh,  with  pleasure,  Monsieur. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRB  97. 

MOLYNEUX. 

Were  you  ever  a  barber  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
No,  Monsieur.  \Laughs  TnerrUy. 

Bantison. 
Pah !    Let  me  question  him.     Now,  fellow, 
a  confession  may  save  you  from  jail.     Do  you 
deny  you  are  Beaucaire  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[Begins  to  sway  from  faint/ness.l     Deny  to 
such  a  judge  ? 

Bantison. 
Ha  !    What  more  do  you  want,  Molyneux  ? 
Fellow,  do  you  deny  that  you  came  to  London 
in  the  Ambassador's  suite  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
No,  I  do  not  deny. 

Bantison. 
He    admits    it !     Didn't  you  come  as  his 
barber  ? 

[M.  Beaucaire  is  swaying;  Francois 
comes  u-p  close  hehlnd  h/i/m. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Yes,  my  frien',  as  his  barber. 

[Lady  Mary  exclaims. 


98  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

MOLYNEUX. 

I'm  sorry.     You  fight  like  a  gentleman. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
I  thank  you,  Monsieur. 

MOLYNEUX. 

You  called  yourself  Beaucaire  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Yes,  Monsieur, 

\Ile  sways  again  /  all  his  servants  come 
towards  him;  FRANgoiS  amd  LouiS 
swpjport  him. 

MOLYNEUX. 

I  wish — devil  take  me !  but  I'm  sorry  you 
are  hurt. 

Lady  Mary. 
Assist  Sir  Hugh  to  my  carriage. 

[Gentlemen  JVos.  1  and  2  take  Sir  Hugh 
of  u.  R.,  Bantison  and  Town- 
brake  following    with  Lady   E.EL- 

LERTON.       MolYNEUX     waitS     U.    0. 

for  Lady  Mary,  who  stands  one  half 

D.  R.  C. 

WlNTERSET. 

Fellow !    [B'e  strides  d.  l.  c.  to  M.  Beau- 
caire.    As  he  comes  near,  Victor  springs  out 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  99 

threateningly.']  Curse  your  insolence !  Beau- 
caire,  if  you  have  not  left  Bath  by  to-morrow 
noon  you  will  be  clapped  into  jail,  and  the 
lashing  you  escaped  to-night  shall  be  given  you 
thrice  tenfold ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[c]  I  shall  be — in  the  Assembly  Room'  at 
nine  o'clock,  one  week  from — to-night.  You 
mus'  keep  in  the — background,  Monsieur.  Ha, 
ha !  Mademoiselle,  farewell !  My  faires'  flower 
— my  golden  song ! 

[Lady  Mary  deigns  no  answer^  hut 
sweeps  out  on  the  arm  of  Molyneux, 
U.  R.,  while  WiNT^nswi  /oUows,  grin- 
ning. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Only — ros-es ! 

\^Se  fdUs  into  the  a/rms  of  his  servcmts: 
Francois  reverently  kisses  his  sword. 


ourtaut 


ACT  in 

^CENE. — The  Assembly  Booms,  one  week  later. 
Music  and  laughter. 

A.8  the  curtain  rises,  Lady  Claeise  is  stand- 
ing D.  E.  c,  talking  to  Bantison  and  Sir 
Hugh,  who  has  a  crutch  /  his  leg  is  hound 
up.     Both  gentlemen  are  laughing  loudly. 

Bantison. 
'Gad !    Madam,  you're  vastly  amusing. 

SiE  Hugh. 
What  said  the  old  chap  when  you  turned  the 
laugh  against  him  ? 

Lady  ClaeI'se. 
Do  you  know,  he  had  the  rare  wisdom  to  say 
"nothing — which  was  fortunate  for  me — for  I 
'was  just  then  culling  bits  of  conversation  from 
the  couple  on  my  right — most  valuable  bits — 
«ind  most — ah,  dear  me — you  are  too  young  to 
liear  them,  gentlemen. 

{They  hurst  into  laughter. 

BANTISOIf. 

Oh,  I  say !    Do  tell  us,  Lady  Clarise. 

ICX) 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  lOX 

Lady  Clabise. 
But  poor,  dear  Sir  Hugh  must  not  stand,  or- 
I  shall  need  a  staff  myself  out  of  sympathy. 

Bantison. 

I'll  fetch  a  chair 

\8tarts  towards  one  R,  As  he  leaver 
Lady  Cl arise,  Capt.  Badger  cotir- 
fronts  her  /  sJie  turns  away. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Clarise! 

Lady  ClarIse. 
Sir  Hugh,  how  horribly  it  must  pain  you  to 
gtand.     I  am  deeply  sorry. 

Capt.  Badger. 
Yet  you  have  no  pity  for  me,  and  my  hurt  i& 
a  thousand  times  worse. 

Sir  Hugh. 
Be  generous,  Madam.     Did  not  the  Captain, 
render  us  all  a  service  to — to 

Lady  ClarIse. 
Sirs !     I  did  not  attend  the  Assembly  in  order- 
to  renew  my  acquaintance  with  Captain  Badger. 
Ah,   there    is   Harry ;    he  can  offer  a  mood 
friendly  to  mine. 

[She  joins  Harry  ;  Bantison  holds  th& 
chair  amkwardly. 


102  monsieur  beaucaire 

Bantison. 

But  I  say,  Lady  Clarise,  you  must  tell  ns, 
you  know — those  bits  of  conversation 

Lady  ClaeIse. 

l^eeUy^  After  the  cards,  Mr.  Bantison, 
after  the  cards. 

\8he  and  Haeky  retire  D.  L.  A  group, 
U.  c,  comes  down^  surrounding  Beau 
Nash;  Bantison,  Capt.  Badgee 
and  SiE  Hugh  move  D.  E.  0. 

Lady  Baeing-Gould. 

Do  assure  us,  Mr.  Nash,  have  they  indeed 
arrived? 

Beau  Nash. 
A  most  felicitous  fact,  dear  ladies. 

Lady  Malbouene. 

And  is  the  young  prince  so  charming  and 
gracious  ?  'Tis  said  his  face  is  as  pretty  as  a 
girl's. 

Beau  Nash. 
It  is,  indeed,  Madam,  utterly  engaging. 

Ladies. 
Ah! 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  I03 

Lady  Clakise. 
[r.  of  Harry.]  Now,  Harry  !  You  can  go, 
Estelle  looks  most  unhappy.  {He  hows  and 
drops  quickly  to  the  side  of  Estelle,  u.  l.  c.  ; 
they  move  behind  others  to  D.  R.]  Mr.  Nash, 
you  are  a  very  brave  man,  I  perceive. 

Beau  Nash. 
Lady  Clarise,  you  are  preparing  a  thrust — be 
ready  to  assist  me,  gentlemen. 

Lady  ClarIse. 

[d.  l.  c]  Why,  sir,  you  have  the  great 
calmness  to  admit  still  more  unknown  French- 
men to  Bath. 

Beau  Nash. 
[c,  howing.']    Madam,  I  think  this  time  I 
make  no  mistake. 

[^He  goes    nearer  Lady   ClaeIse   mid 
talks  with  her,  d.  l.  c] 

TOWNBRAKE. 

[Coming  D.  c]  Is  it  possible  she  is  not  yet 
convinced  of  that  fellow  Beaucaire's 

Men. 
Hushl 

TOWNBEAKE. 

Eh? 


104  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Bantison". 
Keep  still,  Townbrake. 

TOWNBRAKE. 

[/n  wonder^  Madam  Clarise!  And  I'd 
have  sworn  she  was  the  cleverest  lady  of  them 
all. 

Bantison, 
Hush !    I  say  !     She  will  not  stay,  if  we  utter 
one  word  against  that  French  barber 

Lady  ClaeJse. 
\TuTning  upon  him.']     Sir,  of  whom  were 
you  speaking,  pray  ? 

Bantison. 

I  beg  your  pardon.  Lady  Clarise Ah, 

here  is  the  Duke. 

\_As  he  speaks,  Winterset,  with  Lady 
Mary  on  his  arm,  appears  u.  c.  He 
heams  upon  them  all.  Beau  Nash 
hastens  up  to  greet  them,  combing  down 
between  them. 

Beau  Nash. 
"Welcome,  Lady  Mary — and  you,  Duke.     {As 
they  come  D.,  the  group  separates  and  the  gentle- 
men  and    ladies   drop   to   either   side.     Lady 
ClarIse  greets  Lady  Mary  with  marked  cool- 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  10$ 

nesa.  Beau  Nash,  aside  to  Winterset.]  I 
had  news  of  the  rascal  to-night.  He  lay  at  a 
farm  till  yesterday,  when  he  disappeared;  his 
ruffians,  too. 

Winterset. 
You  have  arranged  ? 

Beau  Nash. 
Fourteen  bailiffs  are  watching  without.  He 
could  not  come  within  gunshot.  If  they  clap 
eyes  on  him,  they  will  hustle  him  to  jail,  and 
his  cut-throats  shall  not  avail  him  a  hair's 
weight.  The  impertinent  swore  he'd  be  here 
by  nine,  did  he  ? 

Winterset. 
He  said  so ;  and  'tis  a  rash  dog — we  know. 

Beau  Nash. 
It  is  just  nine  now. 

Winterset. 
Send  out  to  see  if  they  have  taken  him. 

Beau  Nash. 
Gladly. 

[^Motions  to  WiNTON,  who  goes  out  u.  0. 

Lady  ClarIse. 
Take  care,  lest  your  French  ambassador,  the 


I06  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Marquis  de  Mirepoix,  should  prove  to  be  a— 
shoemaker ! 

{Enter  Winton,  announcing,  u.  0. 

WiNTON. 

His  highness  the  French  prince,  his  ambassa- 
dor and  suite. 

Beau  Nash. 
Ah! 

[Advances  rapidly.  All  how  low.  Two 
gentlemen  appear  u.  C.  and  stand  in 
salutation. 

FiKST  Gentleman. 
M.  le  Comte  de  Beaujolais,  M.  le  Marquis  de 
Mirepoix. 

[Enter  Henri,  followed  hy  Mirepoix. 
Beau  Nash  greets  them  and  presents 
them  to  ladies.  A  general  flutter ; 
music  sounds.  Lady  Mary,  feeling 
faint.,  leans  against  wall  L.,  followed 
%y  Winterset.  The  others,  led  hy 
young  Henri  amd  ladies,  go  gradu- 
ally off'D.'R.,  while  he  smiles  and  says  : 

Henri. 
Ah,  it  is  charming — charming — this  garden  of 
flowers ;  we  are  in  enchantment,  eh,  Mirepoix  ? 
\Eceunt    all    except  Lady   Mary   and 
Winterset. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  lO/ 

WiNTERSET. 

Alas,  Madam,  you  are  pale. 

Lady  Mabt. 
It  is  nothing. 

WiNTERSET. 

"Wait  here ;  I  will  fetch  you  a  glass  of  ne- 
gus  

l^Meit,  D.  R.  She  unconsciovsly  rests  one 
hand  on  the  pm'tiere^  and  a^  she  sways 
it  swings  to  one  side,  disclosing  MoLY- 
NEUX  and  M.  Beaucaire  at  table, 
playing. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
[Bringing  lier  a  chair  in  an  instant.'\     Mad- 
emoiselle ! 

Lady  Mary. 
Do  not  touch  me.     [He  sets  down  chairJ] 
Mr.  Molyneux,  you  seek  strange  company. 

MOLYNEUX. 

[Bowing  deeply.]     Madam,  I  am  honored  by 
the  presence  of  both  of  you. 

Lady  Mary. 
Oh,  are  you  mad  ? 

Molyneux. 
This  gentleman  has  exalted  me  with  his  oon* 
fidence.  Madam. 


I08  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Lady  Mary. 
"Will  you  add  your  ruin  to  the  scandal  of  this 
fellow's  presence  here  ?    How  he  obtained  en- 
trance   

M.  Beaucaire. 
Pardon,  Mademoiselle,  did  I  not  say  I  should 
come  ?    Mr.  Molyneux  was  so  obliging  as  to 
answer  for  me  to  the  fourteen  frien's  of  M.  de 
"Winterset  and  Meestaire  Nash. 

Lady  Mary. 
Mr.  Molyneux,  I  give  you  a  chance  to  save 
yourself  from   disgrace  and  your  companion 
from — jail.     Come,  sir 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Mademoiselle ! 

Lady  Mary. 
I  desire  to  hear  nothing  from  your — com- 
panion. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
I  could  not  tell  you  on  that  night 

Lady  Mary. 
You  may  inform  your  high-born  friend,  Mr. 
Molyneux,  that  I  heard  everything  he  had  to 
say ;   that  my  pride  once  had  the  pleasure  of 
listening  to  his  high-born  confession ! 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  109 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah !  is  it  gentle  to  taunt  one  with  his  birth, 
Mademoiselle  ?    Ah,  no  !     There  is  a  man  in 
my  country  who  say  strange  things  of  that— 
that  a  man  is  not  his  father,  but  himself. 

Lady  Mary. 
You  may  inform  your  friend,  Mr.  Molyneux, 
that  he  had  a  chance  to  defend  himself  against 
accusation ;  that  he  said  all 

M.  Beaucaiee. 
That  I  did  say — all  I  could  have  strength 
for.  Ah,  Mademoiselle,  you  did  not  see — as  it 
was  right — that  I  had  been  stung  by  a  big 
wasp.  It  was  nothing — a  scratch  ;  but.  Madem- 
oiselle, the  sky  went  roun'  and  the  moon  dance* 
on  the  earth,  I  could  not  wish  that  big  wasp 
to  see  he  had  stung  me;  so  I  mus'  say  only 
what  I  can  have  strength  for,  and  stan'  straight 
till  he  is  gone.  Besides!  There  are — other 
rizzons.  An,  you  mus'  belief !  My  Molyneux 
I  sen'  for,  and  I  tell  him  all,  because  he  show 
courtesy  to  the  yo'ng  Frenchman,  and  I  can 
trus'  Mm.  I  trus'  you,  Mademoiselle — long 
ago — and  would  have  tol'  you  everything,  ex- 
cep'  jus'  because — well,  for — for  the  romance 
— the  fun  !  You  behef  ?  Ah,  it  is  so  clearly 
so ;  you  do  belief.  Mademoiselle  ?  \A  pattse.'] 
Can  there  be  no  faith  in — in If  you  haa 


110  MONSIEUR  BE  A  (/C AIRE 

not  belief  me  to  be  an  impostor ;  if  I  had  never 
•said  I  was  Chateaurien,  if  I  had  been  jus'  that 
Monsieur  Beaucaire  of  the  story  they  tol'  you, 
4)ut  never  with  the  heart  of  a  lackey,  an  hones' 
man,  a  man,  the  man  you  knew,  himself ,  could 
you — would  you — would  you — have  let  me 
walk  by  your  side  in  the  autumn  moonlight  ? 
\8he  looks  at  him  unsteadily  an  instant,  then 
iuTTis  away.]  Mademoiselle, — I  have  the  honor 
to  ask  you :  if  you  had  known  this  Beaucaire 
was  hones',  though  of  peasant  birth,  would 
jou 

Lady  Mary. 
Mr.  Molyneux,  will  you  please  give  me  your 
arm  ? 

Molyneux. 
[Bowing,  hut  resolute.^     Pardon  me,  Madam. 

[Crossing  to  L.  o. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
An'  live  men  are  jus'  names  ! 

[Lady  Mary  looks  in  angry  surpi'ise  at 
Molyneux.  At  this  moment  Win- 
TERSET  returns,  followed  by  Town- 
brake,  Beau  Nash,  Capt.  Badger, 
WiNTON  and  Bantison. 

Bantison. 
You  may  well  say  he  is  in 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  HI 

WiNTEBSET. 

Molyneux  hath  gone  mad  I 

Beau  Nash. 
What's  to  be  done  ? 

WiNTEBSET. 

Send  the  bailiffs Ah,  Madam  I 

[Perceiving  Lady  Maby,  he  quickly 
Joins  her,  B.  0.,  and  leads  her  a  little 
u.  o. 

Beau  Nash. 
[Quickly. ;\    Fie,  fie !    A  file  of  bailiffs  ?   The 
scandal! 

Bantison. 
Ha!    There  he  is— surround  him,  fellows, 
and  quietly  force  him  out ! 

M.  Beaucaibb. 
Ah  I    Six  more  large  men. 

Wintebset. 
[Over  his  shoulder.']    Lay  hands  on  him! 
Tear  those  orders  from  him  I 

Bantison. 
'Od's  blood,  the  dog  hath  murdered  some 
royal  prince. 


112  MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE 

MOLYNEUX. 

{^Stepping  in  front  of  M.  Beaucaire.]  One 
word !  before  you  offer  an  outrage  you  will  re- 
pent all  your  life ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Or  let  M.  de  Winterset  come  alone. 

WlNTERSET. 

Do  you  expect  me  to  fight  a  cut-throat 
barber,  and  with  bare  hands  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
I  think   one  does   not  expec'  Monsieur  to 
fight  any — body — nor  would  I  soil  my  ban's 
with  a 

Winterset. 
Stuff  his  lying  mouth  with  his  orders. 

MOLYNEUX. 

One  moment ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
But  do  not  fear — I  was  not  goin'  reveal  that 
secret.     I  do  not  break  my  promise — even  to 
you. 

Winterset. 
Tell  all  the  wild  lies  you  like — much  good 
may  it  do  you. 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  II3 

M.  Beaucaire. 
You  absolv'  me  then  ?  Ah,  ha  I  Then,  but 
Mademoiselle,  I  have  the  honor  to  reques'  you 
leave  the  room.  You  shall  miss  no  details  if 
these  f  rien's  of  yours  kill  me,  on  the  honour  of  a 
French  gentleman. 

Bantison. 
\Laughing^     A  French  what  ? 

TOWNBRAKE. 

Do  you  dare  keep  up  the  pretence  ?  Know, 
you  villain  barber,  that  your  master,  the 
Marquis  de  Mirepoix  is  in  the  next  room. 

MOLYNEUX. 

[Eagerly.']     Monseigneur,  shall  I  not 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Tell  him  come  here  at  once.  [Exit  MoLT- 
NEUX  hurriedly,  D.  R.]  Ah,  my  frien's,  now 
you  will  see  Beaucaire's  kin'  master.  I  will  no 
more  puzzle  you,  my  good,  hones'  English,  by 
being  "  Victor  "  or  "  Beaucaire  "  or  "  Chateau- 
rien " :  the  fair  romance  is  over — it  is  quite 
finish'  an'  I  mus'  be  only  myself. 

TOWNBRAKE. 

From  this  fellow's  chatter  one  would  believe 
that  in  France  it  were  the  thing  to  move  in  a 
constant  masquerade. 


114  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

M.  Beaucaire. 

Masquerade  ?  yes — do  we  not  all  of  us  move 
so  ?     W  ho  can  see  beneath  the  real  mask — and 

so,  Mademoiselle  and  gentlemen,  so  I 

\IIe  is  interrupted  hy  the  sudden  opening 
of  the  door  D.  K.,  whereupon  young 
Henri  hursts  in,  and  running  to  M. 
Beaucaire  throws  his  o/rms  about 
him. 

Henri. 

Philippe  !  my  brother,  I  have  come  to  take 
you  back  with  me.  [All  stare. 

M.  Beaucaire. 

[Continuim,g.'\     So  I  will  raise  my  mask  and 
throw  it  at  your  feet. 

[Bows.  Lady  Mary  turns  pale  and  trem- 
bles. Winterset  growls  disagree- 
ably. ToWNBRAKE  is  open-mouthed. 
The  ladies,  led  hy  Lady  ClarI'sEj/o^ 
low  in  D.  R.  with  MoLYNEUX  and 
Harry.  All  group  across  d.  r.  to 
u.  R.  c.  Lady  Mary  «7i<^  Winterset 
mm)e  d.  l.  c,  M.  Beaucaire  and 
Henri  stand  c.  Beau  Nash  staggers 
against  Capt.  Badger.  Winton 
has  retired  to  u.  R. 


MONSIEUR  BE  A  UC AIRE  II5 

MiREPOIX. 

My  warmest  felicitations ;  there  is  no  longer 
need  for  your  incognito. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Thou  best  of  masters  !  So  I  am  forgiven — 
alas  !  My  frien's,  one  mus'  need  to  be  forgiven 
when  one's  cousin  is  angry,  an'  when  that 
cousin  is  the  King  of  France.  \^All  stare; 
Beau  Nash  wilts  again  against  Townbrake.] 
Henri,  I  wish  you  had  share'  my  masque — I 
have  been  so  gay  !  I  am  a  great  actor,  Henri ! 
These  gentlemen  are  yet  scarce  convince'  that 
I  am  not  a  lackey.  All  but  one,  an'  he — mark 
that  young  gentleman,  Mirepoix — he  reco'nize 
me  in  spite  of  my  naughty  prank.  M.  Harry,  I 
have  the  honour  commission  you  pain'  my  nex' 
portrait  for  the  Galerie  Royale. 

[A  general  murmur  ;  Harry,  speechless, 
baios  profoundly. 

Lady  CLARtsE. 

[To  Lady  Malbourne.]    Name  and  fortune 
in  one — for  Harry  I 

M.  Beaucaire. 

But   I   forget.     [Turning  to  Lady  Mary.] 

Faires'  of  all  the  English  fair,  I  beg  the  honor 

to  presen'  to  Lady  Mary  Carlysle  M.  le  Comte 

de  Beaujolais.     Lady  Mary  has  been  very  kin' 


Il6  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAJRE 

to  me,  my  frien's ;  you  mus'  help  me  make  my 
acknowledgment. 

Henei. 
\Taking  Lady  Mary's  hand^  Jcisaing  it  and 
lowing^]     Permit  me,  Mademoiselle  ! 

Beau  Nash. 
\_Coming  forward.']      Your  Highness,  accept 
the   humblest  apologies   of  one  who  was  not 
honoured  by  your  confidence.     Had  we   but 
known  your  rank 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Ah,  had  you  but  known  !  I  forgive  you  and 
all — but  one — from  my  heart,  gentlemen.  'Tis 
true,  there  is  not  a  peasant  in  all  France  who 
could  watch  a  gentleman  fight  six  men  at  once 
an'  still  call  him  a  lackey.  But,  Henri,  they 
are  won'-erful,  this  English  people,  holding  on 
an  idea  once  it  is  in  their  head' ! 

TOWNBRAKE. 

[Coming  forward.]  But,  your  Highness, 
what  a  danger  to  yourself,  what  a  risk,  this 
little  game ! 

Capt.  Badger. 
[Coining  forward.]     Need  I  say  you  have 
my  apology,  sir  ? 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  11/ 

M.  Beaucaire. 
One  moment,  sir.  I  would  speak  with  a 
noble  lady,  the  Lady  Clarise.  \8he  comes  for- 
ward as  the  others  draw  slightly  off.']  Madem- 
oiselle, I  han'  over  his  apology  to  you,  I  beg 
you  forgive  him  as  generously  as  you  have 
espouse'  my  side.     Will  you,  Lady  Clarise  ? 

Lady  ClarIse. 
If  it  is  Monseigneur's  wish. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Forgive  an'  forget  ? 

Lady  CLAEisB. 
Yes. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Captain,  we  forgive  you  together.     Take  her 
an'  guard  her  as  valiantly  as  you  fought  agains' 
me. 

Henri. 
Quoi — Philippe  ? 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Tiens  I    We  are  frien'  now. 

Capt.  Badger. 
I  thank  you,  your  Highness. 


Il8  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

TOWNBRAKE. 

But  why,  Monsieur — pardon  if  I  ask  why 
you  came  all  the  way  to  England  to  pretend 
you  were  a  barber  ?  It's  rather  a  stiff  one,  you 
know.  \Otliers  try  to  restain  Townbkake. 

MiREPOIX. 

Ah,  he  would  not  be  content  with  me — he 
would  wander  over  a  strange  country. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Tell  them,  Henri. 

[  While  Henri  speaks^  M.  Beaucaire 
watches  Lady  Mary's  face  wistfully. 

Henri. 
They  do  not  yet  know  ?  Faires'  desmoiselles, 
gentlemen,  it  is  that  my  brother  have  a — what 
you  say — strong  head ;  he  will  not  in  every- 
thing obey  the  king.  The  king  arrange  for 
him  a  marriage  with  a  noble  lady — ^yes,  good 
an'  accomplish',  an'  mos'  aimiable.  But  my 
brother,  he  love  romance,  he  will  choose  for 
himself.  He  run  away.  But  now  the  king 
grow  lonesome  for  him,  he  very  fon'  of  my 
brother,  my  frien's,  an'  he  forgive  him.  He 
can  marry  whom  he  will. 

M.  Beaucaire. 
So  with  me  there  is  no  mask,  an'  since  M.  de 
Winterset  himself  have  absolve'  me  from  a  very 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  II9 

strange  secret,  I  choose  fling  down  another 
mask  al-so,  an'  declare — the  man  who  introduce 
me  at  the  price  of  his  honour,  and  then,  betray 
me,  to  redeem  it,  is  that  coward,  that  card-cheat 
there ! 

\All    dro]^    away   from    Winteeset, 
instiTictmdy. 

Winteeset. 
\Sava^dy7[     I    don't    know   who    you  are. 
Hide  behind  as  many  toys  and  ribbons  as  you 
like ;  I'll  know  the  name  of  the  man  who  dares 
bring  such  a  charge ! 

MiREPOIX. 

{Sharply ^^  Sir !  {Then  cheching  himself  he 
hows,  first  to  M.  Beaucaire,  then  to  Lady 
Mary  and  the  others.'\  Permit  me,  Lady 
Mary  and  gentlemen,  to  assume  the  honor  of 
presenting  to  you  :  His  Highness,  Prince  Louis- 
Philippe  de  Valois,  Duke  of  Orleans,  Duke  of 
Chartres,  Duke  of  Nemours,  Duke  of   Mont- 

gmsier,  First  Prince  of  the  Blood  Royal,  First 
eer  of  France,  Lieutenant-General  of  French 
Infantry,  Governor  of  Dauphine,  Knight  of  the 
Golden  Fleece,  Grand  Master  of  the  Order  of 
Notre  Dame,  of  Mount  Carmel,  and  of  St.  Laz- 
arus in  Jerusalem ;  and  cousin  to  His  most 
Christian  Majesty,  Louis  the  Fifteenth,  King  of 
France.  [Bows. 


I20  MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE 

Henri. 
\To  Lady  Mary.]     Those  are  a  few  of  my 
brother's  names.     Old  Mirepoix  has  the  long 
breath,  but  it  take'  a  strong  man  two  day'  to 
say  all  of  them. 

WiNTERSET. 

\Going  to  door  u.  c]  The  Duke  of  Orleans 
will  receive  a  message  from  me  within  the 
hour! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
{Going  a  little  tj.  c]     I  tol'  you  that  I  would 
not  soil  my  han'  with  you.     Whoever  bring 
your  message  will  receive  a  little  beating  from 
Fran9ois. 

{A  general  buzz  chiefly  between  Henri 
and  the  ladies,  the  gentlemen  giving 
their  polite  attention.  M.  Beaucaire 
steps  to  Lady  Mary. 

Lady  Mary. 
Monseigneur,  can  you — forgive  me  ?    It  is  a 
— bitter — mistake  I  have  made.     Forgive ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Forgive  ?  It  is  nothing — less  than  nothing. 
There  is  only  jus'  one  in  the — whole  worl'  who 
would  not  have  treat'  me  the  way  that  you 
treat'  me.  It  is  to  her  that  I  am  goin'  to  make 
reparation.     You  know  something,  Henri  ?    I 


MONSIEUR  BEAUCAIRE  121 

am  not  goin'  back  only  because  the  king  for- 
give' me.  I  am  goin'  back  to  please  him  ;  yes 
— I  am  goin'  espouse  Mademoiselle,  our  cousin. 
My  frien's,  I  ask  your  felicitations. 

Henri. 
And  the  king  does  not  compel  him ! 

M.  Beaucaire. 
Henri,  you  want  to  fight  me?  Don'  you 
think  the  king  of  France  is  a  wiser  man  than 
me  ?  {Offers  his  hand  to  Lady  Mary.  Music 
outside  plays  a  strain  froTn  "CT/i  Voyageur.''^'\ 
Mademoiselle  is  fatigue'.  Will  she — honour 
me? 

[He  leads  her  slowly  u.  0.  All  turn 
half  way  from  d.  stage  /  front  lights 
going  slowly  down.  At  u.  c.  they 
pause  /  he  hows  low  /  she  courtesies, 
facing  front,  then  goes  out,'  he  remains 
in  howmg  posture. 


CUETAIN 


THE  TIME  OF  HIS  LIFE 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  C.  Leona  Dalrymple.  Six  males,  three 
females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  two  interiors,  or  can  be  played  in 
one.  Plays  two  hours  and  a  half.  A  side-splitting  piece,  full  of  action 
and  a  sure  success  if  competently  acted.  Tom  Carter's  little  joke  of  im- 
personating the  colored  butler  has  unexpected  consequences  that  give  him 
"  the  time  of  his  life."  Very  highly  recommended  lor  high  school  per- 
formance. Price,  2j  cents 

THE  COLLEGE  CHAP 

A  Comedy  Drama  in  Three  Acts  by  Harry  L.  Newton  and  John 
Pierre  Roche.  Eleven  males,  seven  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery, 
two  interiors.  Plays  two  and  a  half  hours.  An  admirable  play  for  ama- 
teurs. Absolutely  American  in  spirit  and  up  to  date ;  full  of  sympathetic 
interest  but  plenty  of  comedy ;  lots  of  healthy  sentiment,  but  nothing 
"  mushy."  Just  the  thing  for  high  schools  ;  sane,  eficctive,  and  not  dif- 
ficult. Price,  2_s  cents 

THE  DEACON'S  SECOND  WIFE 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  Allan  Abbott.  Six  males,  six  females. 
Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  one  interior,  one  exterior.  Plays  two  hours 
and  a  half.  A  play  of  rural  life  specially  written  for  school  performance. 
All  the  parts  are  good  and  of  nearly  equal  opportunity,  and  the  piece  is  full 
of  laughs.  Easy  to  produce ;  no  awkward  sentimental  scenes ;  can  be 
strongly  recommended  for  high  schools.  Price,  25  cents 

THE  TEASER 

A  Rural  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  Charles  S.  Allen.  Four  male,  three 
female  characters.  Scene,  an  easy  interior,  the  same  for  all  three  acts ; 
costumes,  modern.  Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  An  admirable  play  for 
amateurs,  very  easy  to  get  up,  and  very  effective.  Uraliah  Higgins,  a 
country  postman,  and  Drusilla  Todd  are  capital  comedy  parts,  introducing 
songs  or  specialties,  if  desired.  Plenty  of  incidental  fun. 
I\-ice,  as  cents 

COUNTRY  FOLKS 

A  Comedy  Drama  in  Three  Acts  by  Anthony  E.  Wills.  Six  males,  five 
females.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  one  interior.  Plays  two  and  a 
quarter  hours.  An  effective  and  up-to-date  play  well  suited  for  amateur 
performance.  All  the  parts  good  and  fairly  even  in  point  of  opportunity ; 
the  ladies'  parts  especially  so.  Easy  to  stage,  and  well  suited  for  schools. 
Well  recommended.  Price,  2j  cents 

THE  MISHAPS  OF  MINERVA 

A  Farce  in  Two  Acts  by  Bertha  Currier  Porter.  Five  males,  eight  fe- 
males. Costumes,  modern ;  scene,  an  interior.  Plays  one  and  a  half 
hours.  An  exceptionally  bright  and  amusing  little  play  of  high  class  and 
recommended  to  all  classes  of  amateur  players.  Full  of  action  and 
laughs,  but  refined.  Irish  low  comedy  part.  Strongly  endorsed. 
Price,  23  cents 


Two  New  Prompt  Books 

Edited  by 
GRANVILLE  BARKER 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

By  William  Shakespeare 

An  acting  edition  wit  A  a  productr  i  preface  by  Granville  Barktr 

fVith  Costume  Designs  by  Albert  Rothenstein 
Ai  produced  by  Lillah  McCarthy  at  the  Savoy  Theatre,  London 

An  admirable  stage  version  of  this  play  suitable  for  school  performance, 
if  desired,  under  simplified  conditions  as  to  scenery.     Mr.  Rothenstein's 
illustrations  contain  many  helpful  suggestions  as  to  costuming. 
Price,  2j  cents 

TWELFTH  NIGHT 

By  William  Shakespeare 

An  acting  etStion  with  a  producer's  preface  by  Granvilh  Barker 
ffith  Illustrations  and  Costume  Designs  by  Norman  ffll/kinson 
As  produced  at  the  Savoy  Theatre,  London,  by  Ullah  McCarthy 

Uniform  in  appearance  and  style  with  the  above  and  similarly  helpftil 
for  performance  by  amateurs  as  well  as  by  professional  talent. 
Price,  2S  cents 

Mr.  Barker's  "  producer's  prefaces  "  are  a  trial  step  in  the  direction  of 
providing  less  experienced  actors  and  managers  of  the  great  plays  with 
the  results  of  an  expert  consideration  of  them  from  an  acting  standpoint. 
Like  Miss  Fogerty's  admirable  work  in  connection  with  the  five  plays 
listed  elsewhere,  they  are  designed  not  merely  to  answer  the  questions 
that  must  arise  but  to  put  the  inexperienced  producer  into  such  a  relation 
with  the  text  that  his  own  intelligence  will  be  able  to  cope  with  his  prob- 
lem without  help  or  suggestion.  One  learns  how  a  man  like  Mr.  Barker 
approaches  a  play  with  the  idea  of  staging  it,  and  so  how  another  may  do 
the  same  thing.  In  this  they  will  be  seen  to  be  truly  and  genuinely 
educational  as  well  as  merely  helpful. 


Sent  postpaid  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price 

Walter  H.  Baker  &  Co.,  5  Hamilton  Place 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


THE  ELOPEMENT  OF  ELLEN 

A  Farce  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  Marie  J.  Warren.  Four  males, 
three  females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  one  interior  and  one  exte- 
rior. Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  A  bright  and  ingenious  little  play,  ad- 
mirably suited  for  amateur  acting.  Written  for  and  originally  produced 
by  Wellesley  College  girls.  Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  2j  cents 

A  VIRGINIA  HEROINE 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  Susie  G.  McGlone.  Eleven  female  char- 
acters. Scenery,  easy ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  one  hour  and  forty-five 
minutes.  Irish  and  Negro  comedy  parts,  and  two  character  parts;  most 
of  the  characters  young.  A  very  easy  and  interesting  play  for  girls,  well 
suited  for  school  performance.  Romantic  interest  with  lots  of  comedy. 
Price,  2j  cents 

OUR  CHURCH  FAIR 

A  Farcical  Entertainment  in  Two  Acts  by  Jessie  A.  Kelley.  Twelve 
females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  unimportant.  Plays  an  hour  and 
a  quarter,  A  humorous  picture  of  the  planning  of  the  annual  church  fair 
by  the  ladies  of  the  sewing  circle.  Full  of  local  hits  and  general  human 
nature,  and  a  sure  laugh-producer  in  any  community.  Can  be  recom- 
mended. Price,  2j  cents 

ALL  CHARLEY'S  FAULT 

A  Farce  in  Two  Acts  by  Anthony  E.  Wills.  Six  males,  three  females. 
Scenery,  an  easy  interior  ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  two  hours.  A  very 
lively  and  laughable  piece,  full  of  action  and  admirably  adapted  for  ama- 
teur performance.  Dutch  and  Negro  comedy  characters.  Plays  very 
rapidly  with  lots  of  incident  and  not  a  dull  moment.  Strongly  recom- 
mended. Price,  ij  cents 

HOW  THE  STORY  GREW 

An  Entertainment  for  Women's  Clubs  in  One  Act  by  O.  W.  Gleason. 
Eight  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  unimportant ;  may 
be  given  on  a  platform  without  any.  Plays  forty-five  minutes.  A  very 
easy  and  amusing  little  piece,  full  of  human  nature  and  hitting  off  a  well- 
known  peculiarity  of  almost  any  community.  Written  for  middle-aged 
women,  and  a  sure  hit  with  the  audience.  Price,  13  cents 

THE  COUNTRY  DOCTOR 

A  Comedy  Drama  in  Four  Acts  by  Arthur  Lewis  Tubbs.  Six  males,  five 
females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  interiors.  Plays  two  hours. 
Easy  to  stage  and  full  of  interest.  The  female  parts  are  the  stronger,  being 
exceptionally  good.  Negro  and  "  hayseed  "  comedy  parts.  A  very  strong 
dramatic  piece.     Can  be  recommended.  Price,  2^  cents 


New  Plays  for  Girls'  Schools 

By  Elsie  Fogerty  and  others 

The  following  adaptations  from  standard  plays,  classical  and  modem, 
have  been  specially  arranged  for  amateur  performance  in  girls'  schools. 
The  text  is  accompanied  in  all  cases  by  all  necessary  plates  and  diagrams, 
and  by  full  and  minute  marginal  notes  and  instructions  for  production.  A 
copious  introduction  gives  a  full  description  of  the  stage,  the  lighting,  the 
costumes,  properties,  both  stage  and  hand,  and  answers  in  advance  all 
possible  questions  that  may  come  up  in  the  process  of  rehearsal.  In  all 
respects  they  are  the  most  complete  and  helpful  versions  of  plays  ever 
offered  for  acting. 


The  Alkestis  of  Euripides  The  Antigone  of  Sophocles 

Adapted  by  Elsie  Fogerty  Adapted  by  Elsie  Fogerty 

Nine  characters  and  chorus.  Eleven  characters  and  chorus. 

Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  Plays  two  hours. 

Price,  aj  cents  Price,  s^  cents 


Scenes  Prom  the  Qreal  Novelists 

Adapted  by  Elsie  Fogerty 

Scenes  from  Thi  Abbott,  by  Scott.    "The  Changing  of  the  Keys." 

Seven  characters — plays  forty  minutes. 
Scene  from   The   Mill  on  the  Floss,  by  George  Eliot.    "  Mrs. 

Pullet's  New  Bonnet."     Five  characters — plays  twenty  minutes. 
Scene  from  Adam  Bede,  by  George  Eliot.     '•  Mrs.  Poyser  has  her 

Say."     Five  characters — plays  twenty-five  minutes. 

Scene  from  A  Christmas   Carol,  by  Dickens.     "  The  Cratchits' 

Christmas  Dinner."     Eight  characters — plays  forty  minutes. 

Price,  2S  cents 

The  Masque  of  Comus  The  Enterprise  of  the  Mayflower 

By  Milton.    Adapted  by  Lucy  Ckater  In  Four  Acts,  by  Amice  Macdonell 

Nine  characters  and  chorus.  Plays  For  Children.   Fourteen  characters, 

forty  minutes ;  with  music.  Plays  an  hour  an  a  half. 

IVice,  25  cents  Price,  2^  cents 


Sifit  Post-paid  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price 

BAKER,  5  Hamilton  Place,   Boston,   Mass. 


RED  ACRE  FARM 

A  Rural  Comedy  Drama  in  Three  Acts  by  Gordan  V.  May.  Seven 
males,  five  females.  Costumes,  modem  ;  scenery,  one  interior,  one  exte- 
rior. Plays  two  hours.  An  easy  and  entertaining  play  with  a  well-bal- 
anced cast  of  characters.  The  story  is  strong  and  sympathetic  and  the 
comedy  element  varied  and  amusing.  Bainaby  Strutt  is  a  great  part  for 
a  good  comedian ;  "  Junior  "  a  close  second.  Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  2J  cents 

THE  COUNTRY  MINISTER 

A  Comedy  Drama  in  Five  Acts  by  Arthur  Lewis  Tubbs.  Eight  males, 
five  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery  not  difficult.  Plays  a  full  even- 
ing. A  very  sympathetic  piece,  of  powerful  dramatic  interest ;  strong  and 
varied  comedy  relieves  the  serious  plot.  Ralph  Underwood,  the  minister, 
is  a  great  part,  and  Roxy  a  strong  soubrette  ;  all  parts  are  good  and  full 
of  opportunity.  Clean,  bright  and  strongly  recommended. 
Price,  25  cents 

THE  COLONEL'S  MAID 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  C.  Leona  Dalrymple.  Six  males,  three 
females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  two  interiors.  Plays  a  full  even- 
ing. An  exceptionally  bright  and  amusing  comedy,  full  of  action ;  all  the 
parts  good.  Capital  Chinese  low  comedy  part ;  two  first-class  old  men. 
This  is  a  very  exceptional  piece  and  can  be  strongly  recommended. 
Price,  23  cents 

MOSE 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts  by  C.  W.  Miles.  Eleven  males,  ten  females. 
Scenery,  two  interiors  ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  A 
lively  college  farce,  full  of  the  true  college  spirit.  Its  cast  is  large,  but 
many  of  the  parts  are  small  and  incidental.  Introduces  a  good  deal  of 
singmg,  which  will  serve  to  lengthen  the  performance.  Recommended 
highly  for  co-educational  colleges.  Price,  /j  cents 

OUR  WIVES 

A  Farce  in  Three  Acts  by  Anthony  E.  Wills.  Seven  males,  four  fe- 
males. Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  two  interiors.  Plays  two  hours  and 
a  half.  A  bustling,  up-to-date  farce,  full  of  movement  and  action ;  all 
the  parts  good  and  effective  ;  easy  to  produce ;  just  the  thing  for  an  ex- 
perienced amateur  club  and  hard  to  spoil,  even  in  the  hands  of  less 
practical  players.     Free  for  amateur  performance.         Price,  2^  cents 

THE  SISTERHOOD  OF  BRIDGET 

A  Farce  in  Three  Acts  by  Robert  El  win  Ford.  Seven  males,  six  fe- 
males. Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  easy  interiors.  Plays  two  hours. 
An  easy,  effective  and  very  humorous  piece  turning  upon  the  always  in- 
teresting servant  girl  question.  A  very  unusual  number  of  comedy  parts; 
all  the  parts  good.  Easy  to  get  up  and  well  recommended.      Price,  2^  cents 


TAKING  THE  CENSUS  IN  BINGVILLE 

An  Entertainment  in  One  Act  by  Jessie  A.  Kelley.  Fourteen  males, 
eiglit  females.  Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  unimportant.  Plays  an  hour 
and  a  half.  One  of  the  always  popular  go-as-you-please  entertainments; 
just  a  lot  of  laughs  strung  on  a  very  slender  wire  of  story.  Full  of  eccen- 
tric character  bits  and  chances  for  local  hits.  A  sure  success  for  the 
laughter-loving.  Recommended  for  church  societies  or  intimate  com- 
munities. Price,  2j  cents 

MISS  PRIM'S  KINDERGARTEN 

An  Entertainment  in  One  Scene  by  Jessie  A.  Kelley.  Ten  males, 
eleven  females.  No  scenery  or  curtain  needed;  costumes  introduce 
grown  people  dressed  as  children.  Plays  an  hour  and  a  half.  Full  of 
laughs  and  a  sure  hit  with  the  audience.  All  the  parts  very  easy  except 
the  Teacher's,  and  as  it  is  possible  for  her  to  use  a  book,  the  entertain- 
ment can  be  got  up  with  exceptional  ease  and  quickness.  Can  be  recom- 
mended. Price,  2j  cents 

THE  PACKING  OF  THE  HOME  MIS- 
SIONARY BARREL 

An  Entertainment  in  One  Scene  by  Mrs.  Henry  A,  Hallock.  Ten  fe- 
males. Costumes,  modern  ;  scenery,  unimportant.  Plays  thirty  minutes. 
One  of  those  little  satires  of  feminine  ways  that  are  so  popular  even  with 
the  ladies;  very  shrewd  and  effective,  but  perfectly  good-natured.  An  as- 
sured success  and  very  easy  to  get  up.  Strongly  recommended. 
Price,  I  J  cents 

A  MODERN  SEWING  SOCIETY 

An  Entertainment  in  One  Scene  by  O.  W.  Gleason.  Fourteen  females. 
Costumes,  modern  ;  no  scenery  required.  May  be  easily  presented  on  a 
bare  platform.  Plays  forty-five  minutes.  A  humorous  picture  of  this 
much-abused  institution,  briskly  and  vivaciously  written  and  full  of 
"  points."  Its  characters  offer  a  wide  variety  of  opportunity  for  local  hits, 
and  satire  of  local  characters  and  institutions.  Price,  ij  cents 

HOW  THE  CLUB  WAS  FORMED 

An  Entertainment  in  Three  Scenes  by  Mrs.  O.  W.  Gleason.  Eighteen 
females.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  unimportant.  Plays  one  and  a 
half  hours.  A  humorous  skit  on  the  Woman's  Club  suited  for  perform- 
ance by  either  young  or  middle-aged  women.  Full  of  points  and  chances 
for  local  hits  and  thus  a  sure  laugh-maker.  Parts  well  distributed ;  can 
De  recommended.  Price,  /f  cents 

SCENES  IN  THE  UNION  DEPOT 

A  Humorous  Entertainment  in  One  Scene  by  Laura  M.  Parsons. 
Twenty-four  males,  eighteen  females  and  eight  children,  but  can  be  played 
by  less  if  desired.  Scenery,  unimportant ;  costumes,  modern.  Full  of 
humorous  points  and  chances  to  introduce  local  hits.  Plays  from  an  hour 
up,  according  to  specialties  introduced.  Price,  2j  cents 


THE  CRIMSON  COCOANUT 

And  Other  Plays 

By  Ian  Hay 

This  collection  contains  the  following  titles,  all  of  which  can  be  con- 
fidently recommended  for  amateur  performance  in  schools  or  elsewhere  as 
high  in  tone  and  exceptionally  amusing.  Mr.  Hay  is  well  known  as  a 
novelist  and  literary  man. 

THE  CRIMSON  COCOANUT 

An  Absurdity  in  One  Act.  Four  males,  two  females.  Costumes,  modern  ; 
scenery,  an  interior.  Plays  thirty-five  minutes.  Mr.  Pincher,  of  Scot- 
land Yard,  in  pursuit  of  some  dangerous  anarchists,  entangles  the  lady 
of  his  choice  and  her  father  in  some  humorous  perils,  but  ends  by  cap- 
turing both  the  criminals  and  the  lady.  Author's  royalty  of  ;?5.oo  for 
amateur  performance. 

A  LATE  DELIVERY 

A  Play  in  Three  Episodes.  Three  males,  two  females.  Scene,  an  in- 
terior ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  forty  minutes.  Bill,  a  middle-aged 
admirer  of  Marjorie,  learns  just  as  he  has  finished  a  letter  to  her  propos- 
ing marriage  that  Tim,  a  young  man,  is  also  in  love  with  her.  He  as- 
sumes her  to  love  his  rival  and  does  not  mail  the  letter.  She  finds  it  on 
his  desk  and  opens  it,  and  learning  the  truth  makes  choice  of  the  older 
and  better  man.     Royalty  for  amateurs,  ^5.00  for  each  performance. 

THE  MISSING  CARD 

A  Comedietta  in  One  Act.  Two  males,  two  females.  Scene,  an  in- 
terior ;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  thirty  minutes.  Two  elderly  admirers 
of  Mrs.  Millington  decide  to  deal  the  pack  to  see  which  shall  first  propose 
to  her,  the  one  who  gets  the  Queen  of  Hearts  to  win.  She  privately  takes 
this  card  out  of  the  pack  and  when  they  have  gone  through  it  in  vain, 
announces  her  engagement  to  another  man.  Royalty  for  amateurs,  2^5.00 
a  performance. 

Price,  all  three  in  one  volume,  jo  cents 


THE  MARRIAGE  OF  JACK  AND  JILL 

A  Mother  Goose  Entertainment  in  Two  Scenes 

By  Lilian  Clisby  Bridgham 

Forty  children.      Costumes,   wedding ;    no   scenery  required.      Plays 
forty  minutes.     A  Mother  Goose  wedding  and  reception  carried  out  by  the 
smallest  children.  Very  pretty  and  easy  to  get  up  ;  strongly  recommended. 
Not  a  pantomime  merely,  but  calls  for  some  speaking  parts. 
Price,  2j  cents 


THP  MAfil^THA'T  ^^<=<2  ^°  Three  Acts.  Twelve  males,  four 
lUG  inAUIJinAxC  femaleai  Costumes,  modem;  scenery,  all 
Intel  lor.    Flays  two  boors  and  a  half. 

THE  NOTOKIODS  MBS.  EBBSmH  ^.;tl*.l°..r,Lfr 

Costiuces,  modem ;  scenery,  all  intorlors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THP  PBAFIIfiiTF  Play  in  Four  Aota.  Seven  males,  five  females. 
lUB  rauri4UAll«  g^f^^ry,  tliree  interlo-s,  rather  elaborate; 
costumes,  modem.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  .^t'^Tlt-St^S^T, 

three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  SECOKS  MRS.  TASQDEIUY  ^L^m'S! 

tumes,  modern ;  scenery,  three  interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

cwppt'  I  1  VpNnpD  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Seven  males,  four 
Oni^Ci  i,AT£nVl.B  fgnjaigg^  Scone,  a  single  interior;  costumes, 
modem.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THP  TIMFS  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  Six  males,  seven  females. 
lUG  1  1  L,J  Scene,  a  single  Interior;  costumes,  modern.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 

THP  WFAKPR  SEX  ^^^f '°  Three  Acts.  Eight  males,  eight 
1 UU  V  EtAALiA  i^LA    fg„,a|Qg     Costumes,  modem ;  scenery,  two 

interiors.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

A  fUE  WITHOUT  A  sjuiE  z:^\:^  ;^z.^z..z: 

modem ;  scene,  a  single  interior.    Plays  a  full  evening. 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

S^alter  "0.  I3afeer  &  Company 

No.  5  Hamiltom  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


C|)e  Willmm  Wwcm  €bition 
of  ^lapfi 


IC  VniT  I  KV  IT  Coiredy  In  Five  Acts.  Thirteen  males,  foui 
A3  Ivl)  LflAG  II  females.  Costumes, picturesque ;  scenery,  va- 
ried.   Plays  a  full  evening. 

r  A  Mil  IP  Drama  in  Five  Acts.  Nine  males,  five  females.  Cos- 
VAUIU4I4G    tumes,  modem  ;  scenery,  varied.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

INfinMAD  P^ay  ^^  Viyo  Acts.  Thirteen  males,  three  females. 
inuUillAA    Scenery  varied ;  costumes,  Greek.   Plays  a  full  evening. 

MADV  CTIIADT  Tragedy  In  Five  Acts.  Thirteen  males",  four  fe- 
nlAIVl  DIUABI  males,  and  supernumeraries.  Costumes,  of  tue 
period ;  scenery,  varied  and  elaborate.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE  SSl«erf7n.l?lI:  Sri 

picturesque ;  scenery  varied.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

DirHPI  IFIT  ^^y '°  ^^®  -^cts.  Fifteen  males,  two  females.  Scen- 
l\IVitCl4lLiV  ery  elaborate ;  costumes  ot  the  period.  Plays  a  lull 
evening. 

TUP  DIVAIC  Comedy  In  Five  Acts.  Nine  males,  five  females. 
1  Uli  111  f  Al^  Scenery  varied ;  costumes  of  the  period.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 

SHE  STOOPS  TO  CONQUER  ^^Anr  i^ZeH'^Jl'^^- 

rled ;  costunaes  of  the  period.    Plays  a  full  evening. 

TWELFTH  NIGHT;  OR,  WHAT  YOU  WILL  ^Ts^^e^^mK 

three  females.  Costumes,  picturesque ;  scenery,  varied.  Plays  a 
full  evening. 


Sent  prepaid  on  receipt  of  price  by 

Salter  ^.  'Bafeet  a  Compani? 

No.  5  Hamilton  Place,  Boston,  Massachusetts 


